Phobos
by M. D. Hazel
Summary: In which Ratchet and Mikaela are forced to face their own worst fears.
1. Prelude Part I

This story came to me because of an incident that happened to me a little while back when I made a stupid mistake and jumped into a freezing, flooded river. Thought I was familiar with the river in that particular area, but flooding had made it erratic and undercurrents had formed. Anyway, the terror of being swept away on monster currents is something else, lemme tell ya! I wanted to put it down in words, and I thought this would be a cool way to do it. Anyway, the overflow dam that is mentioned toward the end exists as well. I will stick a photo link at the end, in case y'all are curious. :) Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Update 6/26/11: This morning I read in the local news that yesterday two teenagers (girlfriend and boyfriend), both seventeen, were wading in the water a ways up from the overflow dam mentioned in this story. The girl was knocked down by the current and, unable to get back up, was swept down river. Her boyfriend jumped in after her, but both were swept over the dam and drowned. It is almost eerie how soon this has come after I decided to write this story.

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><p>It was February. Mikaela was stressed out.<p>

Not that that was anything new lately, but the combination of worrying about financial stability (especially concerning her father's struggling machine shop), her new internship/job on the Autobot base under Ratchet (which she had started directly after the Christmas Holiday) and the separation from Sam while he was away at college for the second semester skyrocketed her stress level way above what it normally was. She was sleeping less, eating less and working more to keep herself distracted. She was reminded often that said distraction did not always come without a price, like now, elbow-deep in spare autobot limbs and internals. She had been clanking away enthusiastically in one-such situation, her thoughts trained on Sam and her father when she leaned a little too far forward, catching her hip on a sharp piece of metal protruding from the exterior of the part she was working on. Startled, she moved to jerk her leg away without paying attention the angle of the sharp metal, tearing her jeans and leaving a slash in her skin about four inches long. She cursed loudly, dropping the tool she had on a nearby human-sized work bench and earning the attention of Ratchet.

His smooth baritone floated over to her, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, fine," she ground out, prodding the gash lightly and hissing through her teeth when it stung like hell. She turned to look at Ratchet as he came to stand beside her, assessing the damage with his scanners.

"That may need stitches," he said matter-of-factly, his optic ridge tilted up in wry amusement as Mikaela swore again.

"No, thank you!" Mikaela grumbled, searching for a clean rag to staunch the blood that was now soaking her jeans.

Ratchet clicked at her disapprovingly, motioning to the berth nearest to them. "Get up there and let me have a look," he said firmly, and when she didn't move; "Or should I send you to Wheeljack?"

Mikaela shot him the dirtiest look she could manage and limped up the ramp to the autobot-sized berth. There was a flicker of light from Ratchet's chassis and the medic's holoform stepped forward, making her jump. With a light, somewhat lanky build, dark, shoulder length hair pulled back into a neat ponytail at the back of his neck, slight stubble on his cheeks and chin and a slight frown tugging at the corners of his lips, the image just oozed Ratchet.

"I still can't get used to that," Mikaela grumbled quietly, flopping down on the berth.

"Yes, well, you had better. I have a hard time treating humans with autobot-sized hands, as precise as they may be," Ratchet groused, leaning forward and placing his hands on either side of her wound and pressing lightly. Mikaela groaned. Kind eyes peered at her leg in rapt concentration.

"You can scrape by without stitches," he informed her. "But we'll need to clean this out and wrap it up tightly. You will have to take the utmost care in keeping it clean for a week or two, and I _mean_ it."

Mikaela waved her hand dismissively before pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut as if in pain. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

Ratchet eyed her carefully as he began cleaning the laceration. "You are distracted lately, youngling. Are you alright?"

"Yep, I'm good. Just have a headache."

"That's not what I meant, Mikaela."

The girl sighed, allowing her shoulders to drop a bit before staring at the CMO through her dark hair. "I'm fine, Ratchet. Just stressed out – ouch, damnit!- Under a lot of pressure, yanno?"

The CMO looked at her thoughtfully once he had applied enough gels and creams to the wound to be satisfied. "Would you be up for a drive?"

Mikaela stared, surprised by his question. "Uh, sure, I guess? Where would I drive to?"

"I am quite capable of driving myself, thank you," Ratchet chuckled.

"Oh! Sorry, I think I should have been born blond. You mean… go for a drive with you?"

"If you're up for it," Ratchet said, "I think I am being brutally honest when I say it would probably do us _both_ some good to get off the base and get some fresh air."

Mikaela laughed lightly, nodding in agreement. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Nowhere in particular. I was considering perhaps the area around the river. Not many venture down there this time of the year."

An hour and a half later saw them pulling off of a little-traveled dirt road and into a secluded field next to the river where Ratchet could transform. Mikaela stepped down from the cab of the Hummer, stretching as she looked around. The river was higher than normal this time of year, nearly crawling over its banks. It's rushing rapids and frigid temperatures made Mikaela shiver slightly and draw her arms around herself. A fully transformed CMO came to stand beside her and, to her surprise, held out her jacket.

Baffled, she took it from his massive hand and slipped it over her shoulders. "How'd you get that?"

"You left it in the medbay," Ratchet explained. "It's cold, Mikaela. Organics are easily subjected to germs and diseases and viruses when the temperature drops. You should carry it with you."

Mikaela waved him off, much as she had done earlier and began to walk toward the banks. Ratchet had picked a good spot, explaining that he came here relatively often when he needed time to himself or time to think. Climbing through the weeds, she off-handedly noted that there was an old wooden bridge nearby that looked on the verge of falling apart. There was a slight downward slope where the field met the riverbank and she slid down it cautiously, her leg still stinging. Ratchet followed her, taking the incline in a single step. Mikaela rolled her eyes and plunked down onto the river bank, crossing her legs under her. She tilted her head up to look at the sky. It was a cloudy, bitterly cold February day. The majority of the sun's light was obscured behind the clouds… a perfect complement to her gloomy mood. She sighed.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Ratchet asked, breaking the silence and seating himself heavily beside her.

She turned a grateful smile on the CMO, suddenly wishing that she had more people like him to keep in her life. "It's just financial stuff, mostly. I'm worried about my dad's machine shop. He's about two steps away from going bankrupt already, and nobody wants to cut him a loan because he's so fresh out of prison…" She trailed off, staring moodily at the water. "I just don't get it. How do people expect prisoners to rehab themselves if they don't have any help, and no one wants to give them the benefit of the doubt?"

Ratchet nodded silently. Mikaela continued, "And I am right at that point where I want to be out on my own, with my own place and my _own _financial problems."

"He doesn't want you to be on your own?" Ratchet asked. Mikaela shook her head.

"It's not that. I guess I am just afraid of leaving him to fend for himself. He says he'd be fine, but I don't believe it."

"Why don't you believe it?"

"Because… Because I'm worried that he wouldn't be able to make himself stable financially and he'll just go back to stealing cars again," she said, her voice taking on a slightly desperate undertone as she picked up a handful of stones and tossed them into the water. "He'll end up right back in prison, just like the first time."

"Perhaps he wants _you_ to give him the 'benefit of the doubt,' Mikaela," Ratchet said gently. A look of slight surprise crossed Mikaela's face before she smiled wryly.

"I guess."

"Things will work themselves out in due time, youngling. Until then," Ratchet followed her example and tossed a rather large rock into the river, creating a massive splash. "Don't fret."

"Thanks, Ratch." Mikaela smiled, genuine this time. Ratchet 'hmm'-ed thoughtfully.

"This could be an adequate swimming hole for you younglings in the warmer months, when the water is lower and calmer," He indicated a calmer spot where the river branched off into a small alcove, pointedly changing the subject.

"Nah, don't think so," Mikaela said, pushing her hair behind her ear and eyeing the water warily. "Not for me, anyway."

"Why not?"

She looked at him hesitantly, as though she was weighing whether or not to answer him. A long silence passed and Ratchet began to think she would ignore the question, but then; "I can't swim."

The CMO had the good grace to hide his surprise.

"I've been afraid of water since I was a kid. I almost drowned in my aunt's back yard pool when I was about five years old," she explained, absently flicking another rock into the rushing water. "I was alone in the back at the time, and it took them a while to hear me screaming and splashing around. Since then I just… can't even get into water passed my waist without panicking."

Ratchet nodded in understanding.

"Out of everything that I've seen, everything that I've been through," she said, knowing Ratchet would understand exactly what she was talking about, "Water still scares me more than anything."

"A legitimate fear," he said gently. Mikaela glanced at him as she pitched the remainder of a handful of stones into the river.

"Are you afraid of anything, Ratchet?"

A soft breath of laughter escaped the CMO, but there was no mirth behind it. Mikaela looked concerned. "I …," he hesitated, "There is much I fear."

"Care to share?" She encouraged softly, her voice full of genuine kindness and the expression on her face conveying her willingness to listen.

"I fear death," Ratchet admitted. "Not my own, but those who are under my direct care. To watch another's life force be so senselessly cut short knowing that there is nothing you can do is a whole different kind of terror."

"You deal with that a lot," Mikaela said. It was not a question.

"I do, more than I would like. Such is the price of a long-fought war."

"But you've saved a lot of lives too, from what I know."

Ratchet graced her with a small smile, his optics following the flow of the water. "Mmh."

Mikaela opened her mouth to say something else, but before the words left her lips Ratchet was suddenly on his feet, weapons at the ready. She jumped up in alarm, head whipping around in panic to find what it was that had Ratchet on sudden defense. She didn't have to look or listen long before the roar of a raptor jet reached her ears, deafening. She immediately lifted her eyes to the overcast sky and caught sight of the Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor directly overhead as it circled back again.

"Starscream," Ratchet growled. "Slagging wonderful. Mikaela, go to the bridge. Hide there."

"But-"

"Do not argue!" The CMO barked. "I cannot protect you and fight at the same time, now _go_!"

Mikaela, although giving no further argument, kept her eyes trained on Ratchet as she took off running up the bank, skidding to a halt around the red wooden bridge and crouching next to one of the support beams. She panicked internally when she saw the jet land several meters away from Ratchet, knocking over trees and strewing dirt everywhere. She had seen with her own eyes on several occasions just how capable in combat Ratchet was, but she wasn't sure if he would fare well against the SIC of the Decepticons, especially without warning or backup.

Starscream, who was at least six feet taller than Ratchet advanced slowly and Mikaela was reminded of a big jungle cat stalking its prey. Ratchet activated his rotary saw and circled at the same pace, his optics fierce on the seeker. Mikaela swore the jet's faceplates were tilted in a sadistic smile. Ratchet activated his comm. without taking his optics off of the Decepticon.

_Ratchet to Prime._

_Prime here._

_Optimus, I am about thirty seconds away from a very violent run-in with Starscream. Requesting immediate backup, sending location coordinates._

_You are alone, Ratchet?_

_No, Mikaela is with me._

Optimus sounded alarmed. _Sending back up immediately, hang in there Ratchet._

_Whoever you send, tell them to hurry their afts up. Ratchet out._

Ratchet cut the transmission, continuing his stare-down with Starscream.

"Autobot Ratchet," the seeker crooned mockingly. "Out and about and so alone? Where is the pretty little human you were with?"

"Just me, Starscream."

Starscream chuckled, low and cruel. "You should know better than to lie to me, medic."

Mikaela flinched and ducked back behind a large support beam as Starscream's optics roved passed Ratchet and locked on the bridge where she was hiding. "Aha," he said quietly.

There was a sudden rush of dust and air as the seeker leapt into the air in the direction of the bridge and Mikaela half screamed, scrambling further to the center of the structure in an attempt to shield herself, but Starscream didn't get far. With an angry shout, Ratchet leapt at the airbound Decepticon, catching the metal of his calves and dragging him back to the dirt below. If he had no other advantage, Ratchet at least had his massive weight to even the odds for him.

The seeker screeched a harsh Cybertronian oath as Ratchet threw him into the earth. He gracefully regained his feet and rounded on the medic, hissing in anger.

"So that's how you want to play, Autobot scum?" he snarled. "Come on, then. I'll kill you first, and play with her after."

Even from the distance Mikaela caught the absolutely deadly expression that passed over Ratchet's features before he schooled them back into a battle mask. There was a roar and a sudden, powerful clash of metal on metal as the two collided like freight trains. Mikaela covered her ears, trying to block out the sound of screeching metal as she watched, enthralled as the two mechs dueled like titans, throwing their massive weight and size against each other, ducking and rolling as gatling guns and cannons were discharged, creating huge craters in the soft ground under them. Despite Ratchet's immense weight, he was even more graceful than the seeker as he did flips and whirls, wielding his saw like some kind of seasoned gymnast.

The battle was quick and rough, mostly hand-to-hand combat with the occasional opportunity at close range cannon or gunfire. Despite her earlier worries about the matter, Mikaela was thrilled to see that Ratchet seemed to have the upper hand over his Decepticon foe. The medic, though not as seasoned in battle as some of his Autobot counterparts due to his pacifist nature, apparently had immense skill when it came to close, physical combat.

Within moments, Starscream's faceplates were all but shattered, along with a good part of his chassis, and Ratchet was swooping in with his saw to do some more intense damage when the enormous seeker jumped, using the twin jet engines on his back to get enough air to vault over his oponent. The Decepticon landed with a crash behind the CMO and before Ratchet had time to realize what was happening, Starscream had swept both legs from under him, throwing him into the dirt. Without wasting time, the jet activated his plasma cannon and fired. Ratchet rolled to the side and Starscream's shot missed its target – his spark casing- but caught the medic's hip instead. A harsh cry escaped the CMO's vocalizer as the armor over his hip and the joint itself was shattered.

Starscream subspaced his cannon, advancing toward the fallen mech with a feral grin plastered on his features. Ratchet scrabbled at the ground, attempting to regain his feet, but his shattered leg would not hold his weight and he crashed back to the ground with a grunt of pain. Starscream soon stood directly over him and though the Decepticon was covered in his own energon and had quite a few injuries of his own, he was clearly the one with the advantage now. He kicked Ratchet's side with vicious force, knocking the air from the medic's intakes.

"Say goodbye, Autobot scum."

Just as Starscream moved to draw his killing weapon, Mikaela screamed; "Don't you touch him, you son of a bitch!"

It was the opportunity Ratchet needed. In the split second that Starscream had taken to turn his head at the outburst, the CMO had drawn his own plasma cannon. The Decepticon snarled, realizing instantly that he'd made a mistake in allowing his attention to be diverted to something other than the medic as he found a massive plasma cannon aimed at him, in a position to extinguish his spark with a single discharge. Seeing that he was losing now, he turned quickly, intending to take to the skies.

"Running away, as always?" Ratchet spat, attempting to get up again while still keeping his weapon on the seeker's chassis. He ran a quick scan that told him no more than he already knew; his legs were severely damaged and would need some serious repair before they were any use to him again. His hip joint was completely disconnected from its casing and the opposite knee was crushed, sparking and spilling fluid all over the dirt below him. He could not transform, he realized with a great deal of frustration, and he couldn't stand. That meant that they were stuck there until the backup he had summoned arrived.

"You'll live to regret this day, medic," the seeker barked angrily, transforming in mid-leap. "You should take better care of your charge!"

Ratchet's spark clenched, realizing what the Decepticon had in mind as he took off low to the ground, toward the bridge Mikaela had taken refuge on. His dread quickly turned to horror as the jet launched a missile toward the bridge in retreat. Mikaela screamed. There was a blast of fire and smoke and the bridge exploded in a storm of wood and metal. Starscream laughed triumphantly as he picked up speed, and then he was gone.

Ratchet pushed himself to his feet, immediately stifling an oath as the weight on his legs shot white-hot agony through his entire frame. He crumpled helplessly back to the dirt, intakes working overtime as his processor reeled. He had to get to Mikaela, but he was no good with his legs the way they were. In a stroke of quick thinking, he quickly activated his holoform. It may have been smaller and much, much weaker, but it was still functioning and mobile, which was more than he could say for his true form. As soon as the holomatter form flickered in to place, Ratchet took off at top speed toward the last place he'd seen Mikaela, spark pounding in fear behind organic flesh.

He approached the location of the bridge, attempting to keep calm and quell the rising feeling of trepidation in his spark as he took in what lay before him. There was virtually nothing left of the structure, but for two support beams and a few loosely hanging planks. The base walkway was destroyed in its entirety, Mikaela nowhere in sight. The majority of the bridge floated rapidly away on the current. A painful, shuddering breath escaped him and he feared the worst, but then; "Ratchet!"

His head snapped down river to the direction of the cry and his spark dropped in terror when he laid eyes on Mikaela's floundering form in the water amid the wood as she was swept away by the current. Before even having a moment to consider it, Ratchet had taken a running leap headlong into the frigid water, leaving his immobile Cybertronian form on the banks. He was submerged for what seemed like an eternity before he resurfaced, gasping, to fill his struggling intakes with air as the cold hit him like a ton of bricks. It took a few seconds to orient himself as his internal temperature control kicked in and he was swept into the current. After a moment of searching he spotted Mikaela no more than twenty feet away, struggling to stay above the surface as the undercurrents below yanked at her legs.

Ignoring the stinging numbness piercing his holomatter skin and still attempting to regain his breath, he pushed himself further into the raging river and allowed the flow to carry him to his struggling charge. She flailed desperately, making eye contact with Ratchet for a split second as he approached her thrashing form. The CMO flinched inwardly. There was a deep terror Mikaela's eyes then that he had never seen before, and never wished to see again.

"Mikaela," he grunted, taking hold of one of her violently swinging arms.

Her face locked on his, but she could only choke as water filled her mouth. Ratchet wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her against him. "Hold on to me, little one."

Mikaela clung to him desperately, her nails digging into his skin in utter terror. Ratchet struggled momentarily with the additional weight, but there was enough power and energy left in his legs and arms to keep them afloat.

"R-R-Ratchet," Mikaela shivered, her teeth chattering violently. The water was frigid, even to Ratchet, who had the ability to reign in his inner temperature even in this form. He couldn't imagine how cold it must have been to her own fragile, human body. Mikaela's long, dark hair was plastered wetly across her face, giving her cold-induced pale skin an almost eerie shade of blue-white in contrast. Ratchet was deeply concerned to see that her lips were already turning blue with the onset of hypothermia.

"Push for the bank," he ordered, kicking in that direction without letting go of her torso. "Kick your legs."

Mikaela struggled against the current, the icy water rendering her feeble and sluggish. She kicked her legs, feeling her jeans and shoes weighing her down. They were suddenly swept into an undercurrent, dragged under the surface in the blink of an eye, and Mikaela saw only white, the rush of the water muted in her ears. Ratchet's grip tightened around her and she felt him push his feet against a rock, rocketing them back to the surface as she choked and sputtered.

She held onto his shoulder weakly, trying to regain awareness, but the cold was getting the better of her and she sobbed, desperately wishing for somewhere warm and safe. Ratchet, intakes with flooded with water from being unexpectedly swept under, coughed violently in attempt to clear the water from his humanized internals. Suddenly, his attention was snapped down river and his eyes widened in alarm as he remembered what lay beyond the next bend. His keen hearing had picked up the roar of the overflow dam before he saw it.

"Mikaela, I need you to swim for the banks _now_," he said urgently, thrashing his own legs again against the current. He felt the girl move her legs weakly for a moment before going limp again.

"I can't," she said tiredly. "I c-can't."

"_Try_, Mikaela," Ratchet huffed, using his free arm to attempt to paddle against the current. He didn't have a good idea of what her physical state was, other than what the river was causing. He was unsure of whether she was injured in the initial blast when the missile had struck or if she had gotten lucky, but he knew he wouldn't be able to haul both of their combined weight to the bank alone. "I need you to try."

The girl tried again, heaving all of her energy into two or three more scissor kicks underneath the freezing water before wearing out again. "I'm s-so cold, Ratchet."

"I know, youngling. Stay with me," Ratchet said sharply as he felt her head loll against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering closed. "Stay with me, slaggit!"

But she had already lost consciousness. Ratchet let out a frustrated growl, turning against the current and putting all the force his strength allowed into kicking for the bank and trying to keep his charge's head above the water as the current carried them further down river. His internal temperature control was beginning to falter, the icy cold of the water seeping in. Trying to remain focused, he chanced a glance behind him, his spark jumping into his throat when he saw the swirling mist and the sudden drop off that signaled the overflow dam. He had seen that dam dozens of times with his own optics; it was not a particularly long fall, but the churning rapids and undercurrents that waited below were sure to drown even the hardiest of swimmers.

Ratchet's eyes widened as he his legs suddenly impacted a shallow laying rock on the riverbed and he stretched both limbs down as far as he physically could without going under. Surprise and hope filled his spark as he realized he could touch bottom here, if only barely. His surprise quickly turned to determination and he dug his heals in as hard as he could, attempting to slow their progress toward the raging dam. The depth of the river was erratic, dropping off into deep parts at points and into water just shallow enough for him to barely touch bottom in others. He fumbled desperately, hoping to gain enough of a grip with his legs to maneuver himself and the unconscious girl in his arms to the banks that seemed so close. He tried several times without success, pushing desperately as the current quickened and they were swept further along. The roar was filling his ears now, the mist that rose from the pounding water was surrounding them. Ratchet knew that at this point any effort to reach the banks would be fruitless. Fear gripped his spark as they were dragged to the edge. Tightening his arms around his unconscious charge, the CMO let out a strangled cry as they were swept over and into the churning depths below.

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><p>This short story is to be continued! I'm working on a second chapter now and should have it up soon. Please review, if you read! :)<p>

These are photos of the dam mentioned in the story. Remove the spaces if you'd like to see;

i1198 .photobucket. com/albums/aa447/MDHazel/dam-1807 .jpg

i1198 .photobucket. com/albums/aa447/MDHazel/dam-1798 .jpg

i1198 .photobucket. com/albums/aa447/MDHazel/dam-8898 .jpg


	2. Prelude Part II

Though the fall over the dam had been a relatively short one, the impact had been painful enough to knock the remainder of the air Ratchet had left in his intakes out. They had been pushed brutally under the surface by the heavy cascade of falling water immediately, and Ratchet had not been able to resurface. The fierceness of the currents under the falls created underwater whirlpools and the CMO realized, with a good deal of horror, that not only could he not make it to the surface, but there was no forward moving current here, either. They were held where they were among masses of swirling bubbles created by the heavy pounding of the water.

He saw what little light was left in the overcast sky shimmering through the surface of the water as if it was teasing him, knowing he lacked the strength now to reach it. With a last burst of energy, he pushed again against the bed of the river and was propelled through the bubbles only halfway to the surface before being pushed back to the bottom again. Between the fight with Starscream and the push down river, att this point he lacked the energy to even transfer his consciousness back to his Cybertronian frame… even if he could, he would not have left Mikaela. An eerie calm descended over him as he realized he did not have the strength to continue. He squeezed the girl in his arms tightly against his chest and his spark filled with sadness at the knowledge that he had failed to protect her. Mikaela's eyes were closed almost sweetly, her thick lashes resting gently against her now-pale cheeks. Her long, dark hair swirled around them like smoke. Dizzy with oxygen deprivation, Ratchet allowed his eyes to slide closed as his body surrendered and water filled his human lungs in a rush, choking him.

Almost in the same instant that he had surrendered, he felt something impact his back roughly and they were suddenly being pulled upward and scooped from the water. To Ratchet, breaking the surface felt like being slapped hard in the face, the cold air assaulting every inch of his limbs. He was dimly aware that he was being moved toward the bank by something large and warm, and someone was saying his name urgently, but he paid it no heed as he was set on solid ground. He rolled over onto his stomach while still keeping an arm over Mikaela, ignoring the scream of protest from his holomatter form, and retched harshly, coughing up what seemed like an endless amount of river water before he was finally able to draw breath. He looked up as a shadow loomed over him.

"I-Ironhide," he coughed, "What the _FRAG_ took you so f-fragging long?"

Without waiting for an answer, Ratchet scrambled to his hands and knees and leaned over Mikaela, rolling her onto her back. His spark seized in terror as he realized she was no longer breathing, her lips and face tinged blue and purple with the cold and lack of oxygen. He put his ear to her chest, cursing when he could detect no heartbeat. Springing into action as Ironhide backed off to watch, he tilted her head back and closed her nose with his fingers, beginning CPR.

Pushing hard on the juncture of her ribcage, he got nothing in response. He tried again, his processor whirling as Ironhide stood silently behind them. He sent a wave of air down her throat again, and went back to pushing… One, two, three, one, two, three. Nearly breathless with fear, Ratchet loosed a low growl;

"Slaggit, girl! _Breathe_!"

As though she was listening and waiting for that command the entire time, Mikaela jerked to consciousness, curling in on herself and coughing the water from her lungs forcefully. Faintly shaking hands gentle on her back helped her to roll over onto her side so that she could breathe better and rid her body of the offensive river water. She clawed at the ground, gasping for air and shivering violently as she tried to gain a semblance of what had happened and where she was. She rolled back onto her back and came face to face with a very stricken looking Ratchet-holo. Taking in his dilated pupils, slightly wide eyes, pale skin and flaring nostrils, she reached a hand out in comfort. He took her proffered hand in both of his larger ones, rubbing it vigorously as though trying to make her warm and/or assess that she really did exist. Mikaela's eyes wandered around to where Ironhide was standing in his true form, solemn and slightly awkward, shifting his weight from foot to foot in apparent worry.

"You drowned," Ratchet said suddenly. There was a strange tightness in his voice that Mikaela did not recognize.

"Oh…" she responded as the CMO helped her to sit up. She felt exhausted on a level that was more than she could ever remember feeling as she tried to reorient herself. Images raced through her mind, but most were unclear as she tried to remember everything that had happened. Starscream, she remembered. Fire, falling, terror, intense cold, water, terror, Ratchet, terror, darkness…

"Ironhide," Ratchet said, looking over his shoulder at the towering mech. "What is the plan? We need to get her warm and back to base, and I cannot transform."

Ironhide grunted. "Saw that. Ran into your slagged frame about a mile up the river. Didn't know what had happened or where you had disappeared to, then I saw human tracks runnin' to the fragging river, so I followed the path of the water here and I just happened to see ya right as you went over the edge of that slagging thing." He pointed to the overflow dam with a scowl.

"Contact Optimus. Tell him we're going to need a transport, as my true form is completely immobile," Ratchet said, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face. "Do you have an emergency kit on you?"

Ironhide nodded as he sent a transmission back to base, producing a red plastic box from subspace and handing it to Ratchet, who cracked it open and fished out two thermal space blankets. He wrapped them both around Mikaela, who protested immediately.

"I-I'm not taking both of these when y-you're standing here freezing too," She said through chattering teeth, shoving one back at him.

"Mikaela," Ratchet admonished, "I still have a bit of control over my internal temperature. I'll be fine, you need them more than me."

He did his best to conceal a shudder as he spoke, earning a look from Mikaela that clearly said 'See? I told you so!' He ignored her glare and pushed the other blanket back over her quivering shoulders with a look that dared her to argue.

'_Typical Ratchet,'_ Mikaela thought to herself. She could _feel_ him shivering as he wrapped the blanket around her. And it was no wonder, what with the fact that they'd just been fished out of a freezing river in the middle of _February_. She shook violently, her teeth chattering so hard that it made her head pound. She snapped her mouth shut in determination, breath coming in short, harsh bursts through her nose. Ratchet was checking her over, running his hands over her skin as though he was looking for something specific.

"Were you injured when the missile struck?" He asked.

"N-n-no, I don't think s-so."

Ratchet's brow furrowed. "Ironhide, I need you to transform for so we can get into your cab. She's hypothermic and could go into shock if she doesn't get the warmth she needs soon. I need to regulate her body temperature."

'Oh,_ yes_,' Mikaela thought. 'Heat. Warm. Need.'

Without a word, Ironhide transformed quickly, popping open the door to his cab the moment his wheels came into contact with the ground. Ratchet helped her to stand, slinging an arm around her waist to steady here as she wobbled uncertainly. She took a step cautiously, letting out a startled yelp when her legs buckled underneath her weight. She cursed her abrupt weakness inwardly but Ratchet didn't seem to mind as he hooked an arm under the backs of her knees hefted her up into his arms.

"Don't argue with me," he said immediately, before she even had a chance to say what was on its way off her tongue. She glared instead.

Climbing up into the cab of the Topkick, he set her gently on the seat and climbed in next to her. Ironhide snapped his door shut and immediately began blasting his heaters and Mikaela shivered, thankful to finally be somewhere warm. She felt her eyes begin to droop in exhaustion and leaned against Ratchet's shoulder. The CMO shook her lightly.

"Don't fall asleep youngling," he said firmly. "Your body temperature is too low. You have to wait until it's been normalized, and then you can sleep all you like."

Mikaela could only groan into his shoulder and bury her face into his wet shirt in protest. She was just so_ tired_. She wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep and the sudden warmth was not helping. She didn't even have the mental energy to _try_ to stay awake anymore. She heard Ratchet calling to her, but it was distant now, his voice filled with concern as he shifted her to lie across the seats. The CMO's face loomed into view over hers and she was just conscious enough to see that his features were taut with anxiety. He said something and she saw his mouth moving, but it was completely muffled by the quiet roar in her ears. She smiled slightly and gripped his hand in brief reassurance before allowing her body to carry her into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>The first thing that she noticed when she woke was that the roar that had been so constantly in her ears was now gone, replaced by a soft silence punctuated occasionally by the ping or clang of metal on metal. Artificial light was burning through her eyelids, making her head throb lightly with the medicated undertones of what would have probably been, without the painkillers she was doubtlessly filled with, a horrible migraine. Her body felt leaden as she shifted an arm experimentally, keeping her eyes closed against the offensive light. Despite the fact that she was lying on something very soft, her shoulders, back and legs ached painfully as she moved slightly. Curious to know where she was, she slipped her eyes open slowly, blinking rapidly to clear away the blurriness of sleep and acclimate to the brightness of what she now recognized as Ratchet's medbay.<p>

Turning her head toward the source of the clanging and wincing as her neck muscles protested, she found Ratchet in his true form standing with his back to her over his work bench, tinkering away with something and mumbling to himself in Cybertronian. Mikaela's eyes wandered downward and she was relieved to find that both of his legs had been repaired fully since his battle with Starscream. It left her wondering just how long she'd been out. The last thing she could remember was being lifted into Ironhide's alt form. After that, things got fuzzy.

She attempted to sit up, breathing in sharply when her muscles screamed at her in exhaustion. She slumped back down into her pillows with a small groan. Well _that_ was a bad idea. Ratchet's head had snapped around at the noise and, dropping what he was doing on the bench, he walked to stand beside the human-sized bed she was occupying. After taking a moment to scan her, read equipment outputs and tweak the IV she had inserted into her hand, he turned glowing blue optics on Mikaela.

"Welcome back," he said softly.

"What time is it?"

"Four thirteen in the morning."

He sounded tired. Mikaela scowled. "What are you doing in here and not recharging if it's that early?"

"Keeping an optic on _you_," he grouched, as though it was supposed to be completely obvious.

"How long have I been out?"

"Roughly thirty five hours."

Mikaela's eyes widened. "Damn."

"Yes. 'Damn,'" Ratchet repeated dryly, rubbing a massive hand over his face in a gesture Mikaela assumed he had picked up from a _very_ tired human. "I was beginning to worry you weren't going to rejoin us anytime soon."

A wave of guilt swept over Mikaela as she realized that, since the time of the river incident, Ratchet had probably refused any rest in order to watch her until she had woken. The CMO seemed to read her thoughts;

"Don't even think about feeling guilty, girl," he said firmly. "I had things I needed to do around here, anyway."

She eyed him suspiciously and tried to sit up again, but a large, surprisingly gentle finger pushed her back into the pillows. She glowered at him dangerously, and a tired chuckle escaped his vocalizer.

"Now where, I wonder, did you get that from?" he laughed, indicating her furious glare.

"From the same jerk that won't let me up," she growled. "I feel like I've been in this bed for days!"

"You_ have_ been in this bed for days, Mikaela," Ratchet reminded her with a smirk. "Don't _argue _with me, youngling. You need rest and I have things to do."

"Oh really," Mikaela crossed her arms and fixed the towering CMO with a defiant stare. "And what 'things' are so important that you can't go rest, too?"

'_Oh, Touché,'_ Ratchet thought, narrowing his optics at her. _'Clever girl.'_

"Need to keep an optic on you and finish this slagging replacement part for _Ironhide's_ sorry aft."

She watched as Ratchet adjusted something on her IV.

"That's not a good excuse, Ratchet. If you keep overworking yourself-"

"Yes, yes," He waved her off with a nonchalant flip of his hand. "I'm fine, Mikaela."

"You're really good at taking care of others," she said, annoyed, "But really bad at taking care of yourself."

Her words felt curiously heavy, her thoughts rather slow.

The CMO dealt her a wry half-smile.

"You drugged me just now, didn't you?" she asked, somewhat shocked, her words feeling heavy on her tongue.

"Yes," Ratchet said, in a rather cheerful tone, which made Mikaela scowl at him accusingly. "Yes, I did. Only a mild sedative."

"I need to get up," she pouted, although she doubted she could even make two steps from the bed now without collapsing in a snoring heap on the floor at this point. Her body sagged into the mattress, muscles relaxing in the sudden, delightful warmth.

"_No_, you do _not_," Ratchet clicked at her in exasperation. "However, I happen to know of something that you most definitely _do_ need."

"What's that?" She mumbled, already feeling herself slipping back into the warmth of sleep.

"Some slagging swimming lessons."

* * *

><p>Four months later saw Mikaela standing on the banks of the same river, in the same spot that Ratchet had previously pointed out would be a good "swimming hole." It was only a few days before today that she realized that the CMO had been <em>completely serious<em> about the swimming lessons. He had cornered her on it and insisted that she accompany him on a swim in the calmer part of the river. She had blatantly refused, of course, but Ratchet was adamant… and _very _good at threatening and blackmail. He had won the argument.

'_Of course he won,'_ Mikaela thought, somewhat bitterly. _'He's Ratchet. He doesn't _lose _in arguments.'_

He stood before her, clad only in obnoxiously bright chartreuse and black swim trunks, his bare toes digging into the sand of the bank experimentally. As she watched him wiggling his toes in the sand in fascination, Mikaela was suddenly reminded of the first time she went to the beach as a child. Ratchet looked up when she giggled and, realizing that she was watching him, he explained in a somewhat embarrassed tone;

"The human sense of touch is truly unique. It allows one to feel the very slightest contact."

Mikaela nodded distractedly as Ratchet stepped off the sandy bank and into the water. He turned to look at her over his shoulder when the water came to his knees.

"It's not too cold," he informed.

Oh_, wonderful._

A light breeze tickled her hair across her bare shoulders, making her shiver slightly. It was a gorgeous day, not a cloud in the sky, the temperature had hiked up to the upper nineties and Summer was in full swing. The river had undergone an almost 180 degree transformation from February, Mikaela noted. The water was much lower now, almost infinitely calmer and slower, and had lost its clear blue tinge in favor of a deeper, warmer green hue. Enormous, green cottonwood trees hung over the water, their reflections dancing off of the surface in glittering little waves. Mikaela turned her head upriver to look at the ruins of the old, red bridge she had been hiding on just four months ago. Memories of fear began to surface and she shivered again for an entirely different reason.

"I'm going to have a look," Ratchet said, breaking her train of thought.

Mikaela watched nervously as the CMO launched himself forward into the deeper water, disappearing below the surface in a dive. Fear began to claw at her when he didn't immediately reemerge. She shifted from one foot to the other, mind racing and trying to figure out what to do if he didn't come back up. She had only just opened her mouth to call his name fearfully when he resurfaced in a rush of water, only a few feet down from where he had jumped in. Shaking the water from his shoulder length hair, he puffed out a breath of air and kicked back to the bank.

"The current is calm," he told her reassuringly, then noiced her terrified expression and shaking limbs. "Are you alright?"

"I don't think I can do this," Mikaela breathed, pressing her knees together to prevent her legs from shaking. "I'm scared."

"Mikaela," Ratchet admonished lightly, "Do you think I would willingly put you in a situation in which you were in real danger?"

Mikaela shook her head. "No."

Ratchet nodded approvingly. "I'm going to help you overcome this fear, girl. I know you are afraid, but I need you to focus. You can do this."

Mikaela gulped, shivering slightly as she stepped off the bank and a few feet further into the water. The gentle current danced around her ankles and she turned wide eyes on the holoform standing before her.

"Come, youngling," the CMO coaxed gently, backing further into the water. "No need to be afraid. I'm right here with you."

Mikaela couldn't help but smile through her nervousness at the reassurance Ratchet was putting out for her. His exterior, if you didn't know him, was roughened; he had a sharp tongue, a foul temper, horrible bedside manner and he was quick to anger… definitely a force to be reckoned with. He intimidated the pants off of most he came in contact with, mech and man alike. But anyone who knew him and knew him well would tell you that there was definitely a softer side to Ratchet underneath that grainy exterior he put on. He was witty, compassionate, caring and one of the gentlest beings Mikaela ever had the pleasure of knowing. She_ trusted_ him.

Focusing on this thought, she closed her eyes and stepped quickly from the safety of the shallows. Her lungs constricted in fear immediately as the water swallowed her up to her shoulders and she nearly loosed a terrified cry, but Ratchet was suddenly in front of her, his hands gentle around her waist, holding her above the water. Her eyes snapped open to see him watching her face intently.

"I'm proud of you, Mikaela."

"Don't be," she bit out through clenched teeth. "I'm scared."

"Courage is not the absence of fear," he reminded her gently. "It's the ability to realize that something else is more important."

Mikaela snorted inelegantly, tensing as Ratchet drew her back another foot into the water where she could no longer touch. "That sounds like something Optimus should be saying."

Ratchet feigned offense. "Where do you think _that_ hard-headed youngling got all his wisdom from?"

Mikaela eyed him with a sarcastic tilt of an eyebrow. "Uh huh," she teased, "You're that old, are you?"

Ratchet clicked his tongue disapprovingly at her. Mikaela was suddenly hit with the realization that for a moment she had forgotten where she was and what she was doing. When she looked at Ratchet in surprise, he smiled knowingly down at her.

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'"

"That's Eleanor Roosevelt," Mikaela breathed, kicking her legs experimentally below her. She felt the whoosh of the water on her calves as Ratchet treaded water next to her, still holding on to her waist lightly.

"Yes," Ratchet nodded, "I thought that particular quote was appropriate for the time. She was a most brilliant woman."

A few moments passed by in silence, both of them treading water, and Mikaela's nerves began to calm. A spike of fear resurfaced, however, when Ratchet said "I'm going to let go of you now, Mikaela."

She immediately latched her hands tightly around his forearms. Ratchet did not so much as bat an eyelash when her fingernails dug into his holoform's skin. Gently, he said "Don't be afraid, youngling. I am still right here if you need me. I want you to try this on your own. You will be fine."

Mikaela nodded slowly, swallowing the lump that had found its way into her throat and closing her eyes tightly as Ratchet slowly withdrew his hands from around her. She gasped as she sunk immediately up to her chin, fighting the urge to thrash her arms and legs wildly. Ratchet's voice soothed her;

"Keep kicking your legs, Mikaela. That's it. Now, open your eyes."

Slowly, Mikaela allowed her eyes to slide open. Ratchet was floating two feet in front of her, eyes trained on her face.

"Good," he said softly. "Very good."

"I can do this," Mikaela said, after taking a moment to find her voice. It was more directed at herself than Ratchet.

"Yes," Ratchet encouraged her. "Yes you can. I faced my fear, now you conquer yours."

Mikaela's eyes darted to his face as she realized what he meant. "Your fear…"

"Having someone die under my own hands," he said quietly.

"I drowned."

"Yes. You did."

"You brought me back."

He 'hmm'-ed in quiet agreement. Mikaela felt a surge of love for Ratchet in that moment. It was Ratchet who had taken time out of his schedule for her multiple times now to make sure she was alright, just to talk, or to help her with something, like today. It was Ratchet that had cared about her enough to push her to achieve her full potential. It was Ratchet that had defended her against Starscream and Ratchet who had jumped into the water after her without so much as a second thought. It was Ratchet who had kept her safe. They had never really talked about what had happened after she had blacked out, and she still couldn't remember everything. But she _could_ remember coming back to consciousness with his hands around her shoulders and his face looming above her, white as a sheet with worry. He had saved her life, she reflected, and not for the first time.

"Ratch?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

"You are quite welcome, youngling." He smiled.

"Can we go back to the bank now?"

"Yes." He moved to help her, but Mikaela reached out and stopped him.

"I can do it," she said breathlessly.

Ratchet nodded, a smile twitching on his lips and sparks of pride dancing in his unnaturally blue eyes as he watched her pull herself through the deep water and back into the shallows, where she could stand on her own two legs.

Mikaela released a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding as she stepped out of the water and onto the sand. She inhaled deeply as Ratchet, soaking wet, came to stand beside her, putting a large hand on her shoulder.

"Maybe now you will be able to swim with Sam and the other younglings," he suggested as they turned to look at the water.

"I'm not sure about that," Mikaela said slowly, smiling. "But _maybe_."

Ratchet grinned.

That was definitely a step in the right direction.


	3. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** So, after a whole month's worth of time and deliberation, I've decided to continue this story. It was originally intended to be a sort of two-part oneshot, if you will. I just forgot to mark it complete when I posted the second chapter, which was meant to be the last. However, because several reviewers said that they were eager and waiting for the next update, I took it into consideration. Had a hard time determining where to go from the second chapter, as I had no plot or storyline in mind but after figuratively kicking my butt the last week or two, I've come up with the third chapter in full, and maybe some of the fourth.

Hope that you enjoy reading it!

* * *

><p>That summer in California State turned out to be a hot one, at least according to the bored looking weatherman whose voice poured from the small television on Mikaela Banes' dresser top. Mikaela rolled her eyes; yes, it was hot. She knew that. It had been hot every day for the last month, especially in the city where all the pollution concentrated and increased air temperature by several degrees (according to the National Weather Service bulletin, said the weatherman). She switched the television off irritably, flopping onto her bed with a heavy sigh.<p>

She was bored out of her mind. She and Ratchet had continued their "swimming lessons" slowly, and he had successfully managed to coax her into stepping off into deep water at least four or five more times since June. It was now July, though, and the Autobots had been busy doing who-knows-what. Mikaela found that she wasn't exactly curious to know why they seemed to be continuously holed up in meetings around the globe, just irritated. What with all the secret meetings (she rolled her eyes) combined with the relative inactivity of the Decepticon opposition, it left her very little to do in the way of her apprenticeship with Ratchet. She now had more time off than she knew what to do with, and spent most of it wandering around aimlessly, wondering what to do with herself… like now, for instance. Sam had gone on a vacation with his parents to _Hawaii_ (the lucky bastard), and he would be gone for the rest of the month, a week and a half more. She spoke to him at night at least a few times a week by phone, but even that was only enough to occupy an hour or two of her time. She tinkered about in her father's machine shop once in a while, but things were slow and there was only so much stuff lying about that was fixable.

Mikaela sighed. Ever since the arrival of the Autobots, everything in her life outside of them had just seemed so mediocre. It was hard to go back to having several successive "normal" days when she hadn't even been able to consider having such a day since her junior year in high school.

_Yeah_, it was a hot day in California State, all right. Sometimes Mikaela really hated summer.

Sighing in frustration, she rolled off the bed and slipped into her shoes, grabbing her keys, purse and helmet on the way out to the driveway. She figured she'd give the base another try, even if the entire faction was swept away into a meeting again, at least they had the rec. room and better things to do than just lazing about the house all day, wallowing in boredom. She started the bike, throwing her helmet on and raring down the street toward base.

When she arrived, she was pleasantly surprised to see Ratchet standing in the door of the medbay, as though he had been waiting for her.

"Good afternoon, Mikaela," he greeted her, stepping aside to allow her entrance.

"Hey, Ratch," she smiled. "Did I miss something?"

"Hmm?"

"Well, I didn't expect to have my own personal welcome committee when I got here," she laughed, climbing up the ramp to a berth so she didn't have to crane her neck to see him. "I wasn't even sure whether you'd be free or not. What's up?"

"Actually, you picked a perfect time to come," Ratchet told her, taking a seat on his stool across from the berth she stood upon. "I was just released from the Officer's meeting."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "We've been dispatched separately to several locations across the United States to hunt down Decepticon energy signatures and terminate them," Ratchet explained. "I have been assigned to a group of readings in the southern half of Colorado."

"Oh," Mikaela said, appearing crestfallen. '_So now Ratchet is leaving too. Crap.'_

Ratchet regarded her carefully. "Optimus and General Morshower wish for us to bring human counterparts along as a sort of ambassador to the human personnel assigned to our arrival," he said, sounding displeased. "Major Lennox has been assigned to Ironhide, of course. Sergeant Epps will go with Bumblebee. You have been assigned to me."

Mikaela's head snapped up, her eyes wide. Ratchet continued; "I think this a terrible idea, as it will possibly be putting you in harm's way, but they are adamant."

"So, I'm going?" Mikaela asked, suddenly hopeful, bouncing anxiously on her feet.

"Yes," he sighed, pinching the bridge of metal between his optics. "You're going."

Mikaela's eyes lit up instantly, and she punched the air in excitement. "Yes! _Finally_!"

Ratchet eyed her critically, though there was a slight smile tugging at his lip plating. "Now, Mikaela," he admonished, "This is not a vacation. It's an assignment, and I'd like for you to treat it as such."

Mikaela pulled a straight face, but her eyes still glittered as she gave him a mock salute. "Yes sir, Ratchet sir."

She let the glare he favored her with so often roll off her shoulders and beamed up at him. "What's the plan once we get there?"

"The initiative is to track the signals to the area in which they were last active to try to ascertain what their purpose, if any, was in the location," he explained patiently. "It may be just another 'wild goose chase,' as you humans say. I am not entirely sure what we will find, if anything."

Mikaela shrugged. "And what kind of ambassador duties will I be doing?

"Once we arrive in town, we will be meeting up with a guide that will be assigned to us by N.E.S.T.," Ratchet continued. "Your job is to make him comfortable with our presence and act as a mediator between our species. I don't know much about our assigned guide, other than that he is very familiar with the area and a skilled outdoorsman. His name is Dai Quinn."

"Right," Mikaela replied, sounding skeptical. "So this guy already knows that you exist?"

"Yes. He has likely even been to this base at least once. N.E.S.T. would not assign us just any government grunt, thankfully."

"So, when do we leave?"

"Well, different departure schedules have been set for us all depending upon location and severity of the situation. Ironhide and Lennox will depart in three days. Epps and Bumblebee will leave in four. You and I," Ratchet sighed, "Will leave tomorrow morning."

The next morning saw Mikaela, bright eyed and bushy tailed at 10am, climbing into Ratchet's cab and throwing her bag in the backseat with an overdramatic yawn. The Hummer pulled away from the curb without comment as his passenger adjusted herself comfortably in his seat. After a few more histrionic yawns, she patted his dashboard affectionately.

"Mornin', Ratch."

"Good morning, youngling," he replied warmly, his voice mildly humorous. "I trust you slept well?"

Mikaela grumbled, choosing not to disclose the fact that Sam had kept her up late on the phone talking until somewhere close to 3am. Ratchet chuckled at her and she had the distinct impression that he knew exactly what she hadn't told him.

"So what's on the agenda today?" Mikaela asked as they turned toward Fresno.

"The aim is to be there around this time tomorrow," Ratchet said. "From Fresno, we will take Highway 99 through Bakersfield, southeast to a town called Barstow and from there we will get on Interstate-40, continuing east over the state line to Arizona, then northeast to Kingman. From Kingman, to Flagstaff, through Petrified Forest National Park and over the Arizona state line and on to Albuquerque, New Mexico. From Albuquerque, it is precisely 340 miles northeast to our destination."

Mikaela blinked. "Uhm, okay. Gonna need to stop at some point and get some food, then."

Her stomach chose that moment to growl and attest to her statement. Ratchet sounded amused when he said "We will stop in Fresno, so that you can obtain some nourishment."

It was about half an hour later when they pulled up to a Good Times Burger Joint (at Mikaela's request) in Fresno, and Mikaela hopped out of the cab, patting Ratchet's hood as she walked by him and into the restaurant. She returned ten minutes later with a brown paper bag and a plastic cup full of liquid and climbed back into the cab. She began unwrapping the food immediately as Ratchet pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the road.

"Finally," she sighed. "I was starving."

Ratchet, who had not bothered with any attention toward what she had brought out as sustenance until that particular moment jolted slightly on his shocks.

"_Mikaela_," he hissed, sounding scandalized. "You shouldn't be eating that!"

"Why not?" Mikaela asked incredulously, turning her burger around to inspect it as though she expected it to be covered with insects. Did Ratchet see something she didn't?

"Because it has absolutely no nutritional value whatsoever. It's filled only with grease, fats, and potentially undercooked meat probably swarming with bacteria," Ratchet growled. "It's _unhealthy_."

"Oh, come on Ratch, lighten up," Mikaela laughed, taking a bite out of her burger with teasing, overstated zeal. "_Mmmm_."

Oblivious to Ratchet's glare, she continued onto her fries, munching away happily and Ratchet returned to the road, annoyed but mercifully silent.

"So, how long did you say it would take us to get to uhm…er…-"

"Pueblo, Colorado," Ratchet finished for her. "The total time on the road should be approximately twenty hours or so."

"Yay," Mikaela said dryly.

The next few hours passed without incident. After two more hours on Highway 99, they drove through Bakersfield, but after that, the next sizeable town they encountered was called Barstow, barely a blip on the map, as far as Mikaela was concerned. The stretch of road from Barstow that turned into Interstate-40 was largely deserted other than the occasional 18-wheeler and Mikaela found herself becoming sleepy from boredom. They had been on the road, minus pit stops, for roughly seven hours and were not making as good of time as they had hoped. It was nothing but dry and barren semi-arid desert in this part of California, as they neared the Arizona state line. Mikaela focused on the patches of dry brush next to the road and they passed with such frequency that they began to blur together with Ratchet's speed.

The next thing she knew, she was jerking awake at the sound of thunder. Startled, she sat up straight in the seat, rubbing her eyes and looking around in curiosity. It was dark now, the stretch of road ahead of them lit only by Ratchet's headlights and erratic flashes of desert lightning that streaked across the sky.

"Did you rest well?" Ratchet asked quietly.

"I don't even remember dozing off," Mikaela admitted sleepily. "Gheez, how long was I asleep?"

"About three hours," Ratchet informed her. "You fell asleep shortly after we left Barstow."

"Must've needed it," she yawned, stretching her arms so that they rested against the roof of the vehicle. "Where are we?"

"Still in southern California, near the eastern state line. We're coming into a town called Needles and then we'll continue on to Kingsman, Arizona."

"Needles? That's… interesting. How long until Kingsman?"

"After we reach Needles, about one hour."

"Any word from Optimus?"

"Yes," Ratchet replied evenly. "I spoke to him not an hour ago."

"Any news?"

"Some. It seems that the signals we have been sent after have disappeared from the area suddenly, approximately sixty seven minutes ago."

"Oh," Mikaela said, sounding surprised. "That's… uh… is that good?"

"It's neither good nor bad. It can mean either that they have failed in what they were attempting to do in the area, that they have succeeded in their goal, or that they have sensed our approach and have chosen to retreat temporarily."

"Huh," Mikaela responded, settling back into the seat and leaning her head against the window to watch the rainless storm build. Through his silence, she could tell that Ratchet had slipped back into his own thoughts, mulling things over in his processor thoroughly as he almost always did. Mikaela's own mind drifted to everything from Sam to her father and how the other members of N.E.S.T. and the Autobots were faring.

"Ow, god _damnit_!" she shouted suddenly, stirring Ratchet from his thoughts.

"What is it?" He asked, systems on sudden alert for anything that was out of place.

"Fucking…" Mikaela hissed through her teeth, letting out a harsh breath and wrapping her arms around her midsection, "_Stomach ache._"

"Oh," Ratchet said, allowing his systems to slide out of alert. "I_ told_ you not to eat that slag."

"Shit, shit, _shit_," she bit out, clenching her teeth and doubling over so far that her forehead rested against the dashboard. "That came out of nowhere!"

"Perhaps I should stop in town, Mikaela," Ratchet suggested in concern as her heart rate spiked. "And find somewhere for you to rest for the night."

"No," Mikaela said obstinately, "Don't want to make you late for the thing."

"The _'thing'_ can wait," Ratchet said, "If you are not feeling well-"

"I'm _fine_, Ratchet," Mikaela insisted, cutting the CMO off. "It's just a stomach ache. That's all."

Ratchet did not argue any further, secretly amused by her stubbornness because it reminded him of himself, but still kept his scanners alert on Mikaela as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. They passed through Needles without incident and Mikaela found that deep breathing helped the searing agony that shot through her middle every few minutes.

After Needles, few more pain-filled moments passed by before Mikaela felt the knot in her stomach double, sending it flipping and rumbling ominously. She drew a shaky hand across her forehead and licked her lips as the dreaded numb sensation rose in her throat.

"Do you have a bag in here or something?" She managed to choke out, fighting the urge to let everything come up.

"No. Are you going to be sick?" Ratchet rumbled through the speakers, not bothering to mask the concern in his voice. No response came. "Mikaela?"

"Pull over Ratch," Mikaela said quietly, gripping the handle of the door. The Hummer jolted slightly as the wheels slowed as Ratchet pulled to the right and onto the shoulder of the deserted road.

Not even bothering to wait until they came to a full stop, Mikaela bolted from the passenger door and stumbled several feet from the cab before falling on her knees in the dirt. Bracing herself on her arms, she clenched her eyes shut as she felt the first wave of sickness slam into her like a wall and retched miserably, spilling the contents of her stomach onto the ground.

The ground beneath Mikaela trembled and headlights illuminated the dirt beside the road as the now-transformed Ratchet came to kneel behind her. He rested the back of two gigantic metal fingers comfortingly on her back as she was sick again. Mikaela was vaguely aware of the pressure moving across her spine, but was unable to focus on it for long as she struggled to breathe normally.

"You're all right, youngling," the CMO's comfortingly low voice reached Mikaela as she heaved once more. "You're all right."

The low vibrations of Ratchet's smooth voice set Mikaela calm and she shivered slightly, collapsing backward into the medic's waiting hand. She stared blearily up at the giant form above her.

"Food poisoning, by the look of things," Ratchet informed her softly.

"S'ppose this is where you say '_I told you so_,' right?" Mikaela rasped, wincing at the stinging in the back of her throat. Ratchet shook his head at her slightly, optics narrowing as he ran more scans.

"Sorry, Ratch," she apologized weakly, allowing herself to lie back, resting her head against the tips of his giant metal fingers. She felt the hands of sleep clutching her and tried to fight against it, but Ratchet seemed to sense her dilemma.

"There is no need to apologize, Mikaela. You need rest," he said soothingly. "I'm going to put you down so that I can transform."

Allowing her to slide gently back to her feet, Ratchet transformed quickly back into his alt mode and popped his door open for her. Mikaela crawled in slowly, lowering herself to lie comfortably across the cool leather seats, feeling the vibrations as the vehicle's engine purred and they moved back onto the road.

"Tell me if you need me to stop again," Ratchet's voice sounded through the speakers. Mikaela groaned lightly in agreement before drifting off, sprawled across the seats.

What seemed like several hours later, Mikaela was woken by a temperate shake of Ratchet's interior. Groaning, she looked at the glowing clock on his dashboard, surprised to find that, in reality, only half an hour had passed since she had fallen asleep. She sat up, regretting it immediately as her head swam and nausea met her full force again. Slumping back down onto the seats, she curled into herself and hugged her midsection.

"Mikaela," Ratchet said softly, "We are stopped in Kingman for the night. You need good, usable rest. I've reserved a room for you."

Mikaela lifted her head carefully to look out the driver's side window, spotting a small but clean-looking inn. "Please don't make me move," she begged, miserable. Ratchet's spark tightened in pity for a moment.

"You need to," he said gently through the speakers, attempting to coax her out of the cab without the use of his holoform. "Come on."

"I don't want to."

The CMO clicked at her in disapproval, but his voice was mild when he spoke, "I know you don't, little one, but it will be more comfortable for you inside. They have a bed waiting for you."

Mikaela's eyes cracked open and fell upon Ratchet in a pleading look. "Will you come with me?"

Ratchet seemed to consider this for a moment, before answering "I will, but only if you stop arguing."

"Okay, okay," Mikaela conceded crankily, pushing herself out of Ratchet's seats and onto the asphalt of the inn parking lot. She swayed dangerously for a moment and jumped when a steady hand gripped her shoulder out of nowhere. Through her swimming vision, she saw Ratchet's holoform standing next to her, observing her closely.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Define 'alright,'" she said gruffly, swallowing hard and closing her eyes to ease the nausea that was slowly creeping back in. Ratchet pulled her bag from the seats and slung it over his shoulder, guiding her gently around the corner of the building and to a door toward the end of the row.

Pushing the door open, Mikaela immediately staggered to the bed, collapsing in a miserable heap on top of the covers and curling in on herself again. Ratchet set her bag down in a chair and came to stand next to the bed. He bent down, pressing a smooth, long-fingered hand to her forehead. Mikaela frowned up at him.

"What're you doing?"

"Just checking your temperature, youngling," he told her softly, the corners of his mouth turned down and his eyebrows knitted in a slight scowl. "You don't have a fever."

"S'good," Mikaela slurred, burrowing her face into the comforter.

"Yes," Ratchet said absently, pulling the spare blanket from the foot of the bed and draping it over her. "Get your sleep, girl. You need it."

"Gonna stay?" Mikaela asked, her eyes drooping.

"Yes. I'll be right here," he said, pulling a chair closer to the bed. "Sleep, now."

Ratchet sat, fully awake later that night, his thoughts drifting back to Ironhide and others at the base, idly wondering what they were up to. He frowned to himself, resting his chin on his hand as he considered the task that lay ahead of them. If the frequent meetings over the last month had told them anything, it was that the Decepticons were planning something relatively large. His processor mulled over all the facts and theories but, frustratingly, was not able to turn up more than what they already knew. He sighed, glancing at the sleeping figure in the bed. Mikaela lay suspended between sleep and consciousness, her alertness muted and subdued as she swam in an out of dreams. She fisted her hands in the comforter that covered her, burying her face into the soft fabric and sighing deeply as she was swept suddenly back to sleep.

Mikaela woke late the next morning, swimming slowly back to consciousness as the sounds from the nearby road and the sunlight streaming through the windows called her back to the world of the waking. Blinking her eyes slowly to adjust to the light, she stretched languidly, cat-like, kicking the comforter off of her legs and sitting up to take in her surroundings. The room and attached bathroom Ratchet had found for her was quaint and cozy, just the full-sized bed she sat in, a small dresser and television set, a few classic paintings that hung on the walls, and two now-empty chairs. Mikaela frowned slightly, wondering where Ratchet had gone off to.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, swallowing experimentally to find that her nausea had all but disappeared. She sighed gratefully, climbing to her feet and stretching again. She glanced through the curtains to see that the door to her room faced away from the road and toward a large, green lawn that tapered off into a thick, deciduous forest. She blinked, slightly confused.

'_A forest in the middle of the desert?'_ She wondered to herself. '_I didn't see that last night.'_

She shrugged it off, blaming it on the darkness and her lack of coherence when they had arrived at the inn the night before. She dug her toothbrush and face wash out of her bag and walked into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and rinsed her face, attempting in vain to detangle her hair with her fingers but finally deciding, in exasperation, to tie it up at the back of her neck.

When she reemerged from the bathroom, she was somewhat miffed to find that Ratchet was still nowhere to be found. She decided, after slipping her shoes on, that she would go outside to conduct a more thorough search, if not to get some fresh air. She stepped out onto the small porch, inhaling deeply as she took in her surroundings. The door of her room was on the left side of the inn, which was small but quaint. The wooded area wrapped around from in front of her to the back of the building and she squinted, unable to tell exactly how deep the forest went.

She hopped down from the walkway and onto the lawn, choosing to go to the parking lot first, theorizing that maybe Ratchet had expended too much energy between the drive and his holoform and had decided to power down into recharge himself after she had fallen asleep. She rounded the corner to the small lot, scanning the few cars parked there and becoming slightly worried when the chartreuse rescue vehicle was not among them.

Frowning, she circled back around the left side of the building where the room was and continued on to the back of the lawn. When she rounded the corner to the back she spotted Ratchet immediately, several yards away from the building and instantly knew something was wrong. The CMO was on his knees in the grass, supporting his massive weight with one arm, the other servo clutched tightly against his chest plating. His optics were wide, his intakes drawing long, ragged gulps of air.

"Ratchet," she said frantically, approaching him and putting a hand on the servo that he had dug into the grass. "Ratch, what's wrong?"

His optics swiveled to where she stood, and Mikaela had the distinct impression that he was only half aware of her presence. "Ironhide," he choked. "_Ironhide_."

Something in the way Ratchet said his bondmate's name made Mikaela's heart plummet to her feet in dread. Ratchet didn't get upset over _nothing_. In fact, as she thought on it, she had never even seen him upset. She tapped his servo gently in an attempt to get him to focus. "Tell me what happened, Ratchet."

Ratchet seemed to shake himself. "The base was attacked early this morning," he whispered, optics wide. "They never saw it was coming. I got the emergency transmissions, but could only catch bits and pieces over the comm. lines…"

"Is everyone okay?" Mikaela demanded, feeling like it was a stupid question. Ratchet only looked at her.

"Dead," he gasped out, and Mikaela took a step back when his entire frame began to quiver. "Dead."

"What do you mean, Ratchet? Who?" Mikaela asked, fear bubbling in her stomach.

"Bumblebee. Jazz and… Primus," he swore, squeezing his optics shut. "_Ironhide_…"

_Bumblebee,_ Mikaela thought, tears springing to her eyes in disbelief. _Jazz, Ironhide._

"Oh God, Ratchet," she said softly, sinking to her knees next to him. "I'm so sorry."

Ratchet could only shake his helm, the pain in his spark unbearable. He instinctively reached out to Ironhide through the bond, but his pleas echoed in the emptiness. The CMO kept an impending emotional meltdown at bay with an obvious effort and he straightened, standing suddenly and tilting his head as though listening for something that Mikaela couldn't hear.

"What is it?"

"Approaching Decepticon signals," he warned, crouching protectively in front of her. "Three of them."

"What!" Mikaela shouted, panicking. "Ratchet, we need to get out of here, then!"

"I will not _flee_," Ratchet snarled, sounding feral. "Not from them."

Something in his words told Mikaela that his unwillingness to retreat was now intensely personal and she knew this was not an argument that she could win. She opted, instead, for backing slowly into the line of trees behind the inn, concealing herself as well as she could.

"Be careful, Ratchet," she whispered under her breath, knowing that he could hear her. He shifted his stance, looking momentarily over his shoulder to where she was hidden and nodded. The sadness in his optics made Mikaela's eyes mist over again, but she refused to let the tears spill. Now was not the time for grieving. They could mourn _after _these fucking Cons were taken care of.

Ratchet had turned back to the scenery ahead of him just as two Decepticon vehicles came tearing around the corner of the inn, transforming in midair as they hit the lawn and landing on their feet with catlike grace. Mikaela recognized them immediately as Barricade and Sideways. But hadn't Ratchet said three? Where was the third?

Her question was answered as she heard the familiar (and terrifying) roar of a Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor jet overhead. Tilting her head to the sky, she watched as Starscream flipped and transformed, landing on his feet directly in front of Ratchet.

Mikaela felt helpless, standing there in the trees. She didn't know very much about spark bonds, only what Ratchet had taught her in passing, but she knew that the death of one's spark partner left another Cybertronian weak and vulnerable. Sometimes they died instantly, unable to bear the pain of losing what must have felt like half of their soul.

Mikaela bit her lip as the towering Seeker advanced on the already crippled medic, sneering. Barricade circled around the opposite direction, taking up a position behind Ratchet, cornering him and cutting off any chance he may have had at escape.

"I trust your ancient processor remembers our last encounter, medic?" the Seeker asked. His voice sent chills up Mikaela's spine.

"I remember you getting slagged and fleeing like the pile of scrap that you are," Ratchet retorted hotly, his optics darting to assess Barricade's position before fixing themselves on Starscream once more.

"I gave you my word that you would live to regret that day," the Decepticon growled, flexing his claw-like servos. "The time is now."

"I am not afraid of you," Ratchet said evenly.

"I should tell you, then," Starscream crooned, "That _I_ was the one to have the pleasure of tearing your mate's spark out of his ruined chassis."

To Mikaela's horror, Ratchet did not lash out at the Seeker as she expected. There was no heated retort, no threat or promise of death. Ratchet merely stilled for a moment, optics widening, and loosed a long, ragged keen that broke Mikaela's heart. Starscream laughed, high and cold.

"Find the human," he hissed to Sideways, mirroring Barricade's movements as he began circling Ratchet. "Bring her to me."

"_Run_, Mikaela!" Ratchet shouted, as both Barricade and Starscream launched themselves upon him.

Reluctant to leave her protector's side, but trusting his judgment, Mikaela put her back to the inn and ran into the thick of the trees. It was only a matter of seconds before she heard the cracking of wood and the pounding of huge feet that signaled Sideways' entrance into the forest, as well. Mikaela veered left, away from the sound, weaving her way through low hanging branches and thick bushes to find cover. She continued running parallel to the forest line for several more minutes before bursting into a small clearing filled with large boulders. After a few moments worth of deliberation, she decided to take her chances hiding rather than running. She needed to get back to Ratchet somehow without being detected by the pursuing Sideways. If she could just stay hidden long enough for him to move passed her, she would be able to sneak back in the direction that she had come.

Bending over and bracing herself on her knees, she took in her surroundings. She first considered the large rocks, scattered and grouped in sections of the clearings. If she could manage to find a nook small enough to squeeze into among them, they might shield her heat signature from the searching Decepticon. That thought was quickly dismissed, however, when she ran the scenario through her mind and pictured herself being caught and crushed by the immense weight of the boulders should she be discovered. She became somewhat frantic when she heard the tell-tale crashing that warned her of Sideways' approach. Making a split second decision, she hopped nimbly up on one of the medium sized rocks, and to the larger rocks from there. She continued in this fashion, jumping from boulder to boulder until she reached the opposite edge of the clearing. She took one last look behind her before sprinting forward and launching herself from the tallest of the boulders and onto a hanging maple branch close by. She hung momentarily before hooking her legs around the branch and swinging herself up. After taking a second to find her balance, she gripped the trunk of the large tree and stood to climb to the next branch. Five minutes later saw her over two dozen feet above the forest floor, smirking down as she tried to picture the Decepticon attempting to climb the tree after her.

Up here, she knew, it would not be easy for him to detect her heat signature, if he even had the processor power to consider looking for her above ground. She doubted he did, and so sat back against the trunk, waiting alertly in hopes that he had followed her trail well enough to at least lead him passed the clearing. She was not disappointed when, moments later, Sideways crashed into the open space, blades much similar to Ratchet's, but smaller, spinning from his arms. She heard him growl in frustration as he scanned the area and turned up nothing.

After spending another five fruitless minutes rooting around angrily for any sign of her, Mikaela watched as Sideways moved on, continuing in the same direction, as she'd hoped. When she was sure he was a good distance into the trees, she climbed down from the tree quickly, dropping from the lowest branches to her feet and tearing off in the direction of the inn, pleading under her breath for Ratchet's safety.

She navigated her way back to the area around the inn easily, creeping up to the edge of the lawn quietly to peer out at the battle. Ratchet had taken out Barricade, Mikaela realized with pride as she saw the cop car's sparking remains laying in a heap nearby. As she scanned the rest of the area, fear gripped her heart as she saw Ratchet laying on his back in the grass, Starscream's form towering over him, holding him down with a well-placed foot on his chassis.

He raised his cannon arm to deal the killing blow, sneering down at the medic who lay helpless under the weight of his foot. The second before Starscream could gather his wits to fire, however, his processor was knocked off track when a rock collided with the back of his helm, making him jerk in surprise and his cannon power down as his concentration broke. He twisted around sharply, showing his teeth in an angry snarl as Mikaela emerged from the trees.

"No, Mikaela!" Ratchet hissed through clenched teeth, writhing frantically in the Seeker's grasp as the girl neared, another rock already in her hand.

"Get your ass off of him," Mikaela snarled, taking aim and lobbing the fist-sized rock as hard as she could at Starscream, barely registering the angry roar to her left as Sideways hurtled through the tree line and back into the clearing, covered in foliage and dirt and clearly fuming at his inability to catch a simple human. A wave of triumph rose in her chest as the rock hit true, shattering Starscream's right optic and making him cry out in fury and pain. Her sense of accomplishment died immediately, however, as the angry 'Con regained coherence, activated his cannon and fired, pointblank, into Ratchet's open chest plates.

A cry rose in Mikaela's throat, smothered before it could escape her lips as the CMO jerked upward with the force of the blast before falling back, seemingly in slow motion. Her face contorted as she watched bright energon pool around him in a steady flow. It took her a moment to realize that Ratchet's optics were locked on her face.

"_Mikaela_," he whispered, her name dying in his vocalizer as his limbs failed him and he surrendered, his spark guttering and skipping before dying out altogether.

She screamed, sounding inhuman to her own ears as she watched the light in Ratchet's optics flicker and die out, leaving them lifeless gray. Her heart contracted painfully and she struggled to draw air into her lungs, unable to accept that she had just witnessed the death of not only her closest friend and protector, but her only remaining father-figure. Tears rose, unbidden, and Mikaela sobbed hoarsely, allowing them to spill over and trail down her cheeks. She wheeled around furiously and spat at Starscream in reflex.

"You _bastard_!"

"Quiet, fleshling," the Seeker sneered, kicking Ratchet's lifeless frame viciously as he stalked toward her. "You won't have to mourn this useless pile of scrap for long."

Mikaela's survival instincts kicked in at the Decepticon's words and she turned and bolted as fast as her legs would carry her. The ground beneath her shook with the heavy footfalls of the Decepticons as they pursued her back into the dense forest. She hurtled through the trees, jumping fallen branches and zigzagging through rocks, her heart pounding in her ears. She chanced a look behind her, nearly crying out in fear as she watched the two Cons crashing through the landscape, the trees in their path splintering as though they were made of glass.

She was tired, now, and not able to run as fast as she had hoped, and disoriented, her vision blurred with falling tears. Using all of her willpower to focus, she tore her gaze back to the ground in front of her and continued running, satisfied when she realized that her dexterity was allowing her to traverse the area faster than her pursuers, if only by a bit. Her small triumph ended, however, when she was forced to slide to a frantic halt to prevent herself from running like a lemming right over a steep cliff. She looked over the edge carefully, wincing internally as she saw that the landscape here dropped off into a river. Her eyes scanned the ledge of the cliff for any way down, but found none. She tossed a fearful glance behind her, her ears picking up the sound of the approaching Decepticons and then looked down, her muscles nearly seizing in fear as she gazed upon the river below again. She shook herself mentally in preparation. The water was calm, there were no rapids in sight… she knew she'd have to make a jump for it. Ratchet's swimming lessons would come in handy, after all. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest.

'_Oh, Ratchet_…'

Mikaela took a few steps back from the edge, taking deep, steadying breaths. Closing her eyes and clenching her fists tightly, she sprang forward. A strangled scream erupted from her throat as she was caught mid-leap in the air by a massive, clawed servo. Kicking and struggling, she was brought optic-level to a sadistically pleased looking Starscream.

"Game over, human filth," he sneered. Mikaela gasped in pain as the Seeker's servo contracted around her midsection, unable to summon enough air to scream as her ribs snapped. She looked up into cruel, red optics and choked on her own blood as it filled her lungs. Her vision went bright white and then tunneled to black as she felt the life leave her broken body.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Don't panic! Honestly, ladies and gentlemen, do you really think I'd leave it here? Expect another update _soon_.


	4. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** You didn't really think I'd leave it at that, did you? I may be particularly cruel, but I'm not _that _cruel. Either way, I finally have a bit of a plot floating around in my head. I'm not entirely sure it can be called that… let's call it a pre-plot, shall we? This is my first crack at a fanfiction that isn't a one-shot. Got a lot of the fifth chapter written – it was originally part of this one, but then this one suddenly jumped to nearly seven thousand words, so I split it into two. Reviews are love! They fuel my creative muse and make me want to update.

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><p>"Mikaela…"<p>

"No… Don't touch me!"

"Mikaela!"

Mikaela jolted awake and shot upright, flinging herself from the bed and backing up against the wall, dragging ragged breath from her lungs as she frantically took in her surroundings. The panic she felt vanished when she realized that she was in the inn that they had stopped at that night. Ratchet's holoform stood from the edge of the bed slowly, holding his hands out toward her in a nonthreatening gesture, as though he was approaching a terrified animal. Mikaela exhaled sharply.

"Ratch?"

She sagged against him when he stepped close enough and he put both hands on her shoulders to steady her, his unnaturally blue eyes gazing at her pallid face in concern.

"You had a nightmare," he said. It was not a question.

"Yeah," Mikaela said finally. She brought a shaky hand up to wipe at the cold sweat forming on her brow and realized that her cheeks were wet with tears. "A really bad one."

"Would you like to talk about it?" He asked gently. Mikaela shook her head silently, her hair falling in front of her eyes. She felt nauseated and feeble as she pulled herself out of Ratchet's grasp and stumbled across the hotel room to collapse on the foot of the bed and lean forward to angle her head between her knees in an attempt to stop the encroaching queasiness. She sat this way for several moments, eyes shut and swaying gently before sliding off the bed suddenly, wobbling in place for a moment and walking quickly across the floor, toward the end of the room.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she explained simply when Ratchet looked after her questioningly. She reached the bathroom, knelt before the commode and heaved, wincing when nothing came up. Ratchet was at her side in an instant, pulling her hair to the back of her neck with one hand and rubbing reassuring circles on her back with the other.

"Shhh," he soothed as she choked again, whimpering. "It's alright."

She fell back onto his chest in exhaustion, shaking and trembling in waves against him. He immediately hefted her shivering form into his arms, carrying her back to the bed. After securing her beneath the blankets, Ratchet left the bedroom, returning a moment later with two washcloths and a glass of water. The holoform sat lightly on the edge of the bed, tucking the covers tighter around her and using one of the cloths to wipe her face. He helped her sip the water before folding the second damp cloth and laying it across her forehead, smoothing her hair as he did so.

"It will pass, Mikaela," he said reassuringly, patting her on the hand. "You will feel better in the morning."

"Okay," she conceded, too tired to tell him that that particular notion did nothing for her at this time. "Stay with me, kay?"

Ratchet studied her with kind eyes and Mikaela felt like he may have known exactly what her nightmare had included, somehow. She quickly shook the thought away and the images that had returned to her mind with it. The pain had seemed so real, to have lost so many close to her in such a short time, and so brutally… Her thoughts trailed off and she was startled when Ratchet reached forward with a tissue from the nightstand to wipe at her face. She hadn't even realized that she was crying.

"Everyone died," she told him softly, before she could stop herself.

"Everyone?"

"Well, no… I guess Optimus was okay, and Sam and… Well, Bee and Jazz died and," she rambled, trailing off and turning pleading eyes on Ratchet.

"And?"

"And Ironhide," she said, wincing. Ratchet continued to gaze at her evenly. "And _you_. I woke up and you said that the base had been attacked, and then Starscream and Sideways and Barricade showed up and _killed_ you, right in front of me."

She was beginning to fall into hysterics and her breathing hitched as she sat up, coming in sharp inhales and long exhales. Ratchet wrapped his fingers around her chin, tilting her face to look at him, his blue eyes shining in the dim light.

"Mikaela," he said gently, "I am here. Nothing happened. I spoke to Optimus less than two hours ago, to inform him of our location and situation and everything on the base is as it should be."

"Yeah," she said stiffly, but Ratchet noted some of the tension leaving her limbs.

"Nightmares can seem very real," he continued, removing his hand from her chin and patting her hand again. "But I assure you, Mikaela, it was only that; A nightmare."

"Okay," Mikaela conceded, her features finally slackening.

"Now, get some sleep. You will feel better in the morning and we have a long day ahead. I will stay right here."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Mikaela was out like a light, falling into a deeper, dreamless sleep.

She was roused early the next morning by Ratchet shaking her shoulder gently. She cracked her eyes open with a groan, noting dully that it was barely light outside.

"What time is it?" she croaked, wincing at the dryness in her throat.

"It's six in the morning," Ratchet said quietly, handing her a glass of water and flipping on the lamp that sat on the bedside table. Mikaela winced, wiggling into a sitting position and sipping warily at the water.

"Fuck, that's early," Mikaela said, deciding to pretend she didn't hear Ratchet's amused snort. She swore that she hadn't been asleep for more than five minutes.

"How do you feel?" Ratchet asked.

Mikaela considered this for a moment, tilting her head and swallowing a few times. "Better," she finally said, pleased.

"Good," Ratchet replied. "Time to get up. We need to try to be out of here in half an hour. I'm going to go check out with the inn keeper. Will you be alright here?"

Mikaela nodded distractedly, throwing the blankets off and rolling out of the bed with a long groan. Ratchet gave her one last amused look before leaving the room to check out. Continuing to grumble loudly, Mikaela made her way to the small bathroom. Ratchet had set her bag on the sink counter for her, and she pulled out her hair brush, wincing as she ripped out what felt like dozens of hairs by their roots as she tried to tame the tangles that had nestled there overnight. After wrestling with it for the better part of five minutes, she finally had it tamed enough to look at least _halfway_ like she wasn't a crazed mental ward escapee. Frowning, she pulled out her toothbrush and began to brush her teeth zealously; removing any traces of the previous night's… escapades.

No sooner had she idly began to wonder when Ratchet would be back than his holoform wandered back in through the door, shaking his head and muttering to himself about human females. He stopped as he walked by the open bathroom door, turning to face Mikaela as she brushed her teeth and just watched, squinting slightly at her.

Mikaela threw him a _look_, eyebrows raised as if to say '_What the hell are you looking at?_'

"Human hygiene is intriguing," he explained, holding a hand up in self defense. Mikaela would have snorted if it weren't for the fear of spraying minty bubbles through her nose by doing so.

She rinsed her mouth and tossed her toothbrush and effects back in her bag, zipping it up and slinging it over her shoulder.

"What about human females, now?" she asked.

"Oh," Ratchet said, clearly not expecting to be overheard in his muttering. "The… the female at the desk asked me on a… an outing."

"An outing," Mikaela repeated as she cocked a hip and looked at Ratchet, humor dancing in her eyes.

"Yes, an outing."

"You mean she asked you out on a _daaate_," Mikaela drawled, teasing.

Ratchet gave her a withering glare and Mikaela burst into giggles. Somehow, through her laughter she managed to pat him weakly on the shoulder. He only managed to look more miffed.

"Laugh about it all you want. It was awkward."

Mikaela laughed herself all the way to the front door before quieting down and then, turning around and taking in the stricken look on his features, couldn't help but laugh some more. Ratchet bopped her gently on the head as he walked out after her, shutting the door behind him.

Mikaela finally got a hold of herself, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air outside. She didn't know why she was surprised to find that there was no forest outside of the inn, as there had been in her dream. This was a desert, after all… the dream had just seemed so real. She shook her head again, offering Ratchet an overly bright smile as his holoform came to carry her bag back to his waiting alt. form. She followed him around to the parking lot and climbed in as the holo dissipated, unable to stop a small sigh of relief from escaping at the feel of returning to somewhere familiar and safe.

The rest of the drive passed with relatively little incident, though Mikaela did catch Ratchet breaching the speed limit a few times. The CMO grumbled and muttered as she teased him relentlessly, threatening to "go and tattle to Optimus."

"Tattle all you want, youngling," he said. "We are late."

"My bad," Mikaela replied, feeling a little honest guilt work its way into her psych.

She could almost feel Ratchet scowling at her reprovingly when he said "It was not your fault, Mikaela. Those things are beyond your control. Although… Don't let me catch you eating that slag again!"

Mikaela had laughed good-naturedly and smacked at his dashboard, insisting that she rarely got sick from fast food – at which point, Ratchet chose only to grumble on to himself.

The scenery passed slowly and another two and a half hours rolled by before they reached Flagstaff, Arizona. Mikaela convinced Ratchet to stop here, so that she could relieve her screaming bladder and grab a bottle of green tea, looking at Ratchet as though he had sprouted several more heads from random places on his frame when he asked her why she hadn't gotten anything to eat.

"I don't want to be puking the rest of the way there, Ratch," Mikaela snorted. "And I doubt that you want to deal with stopping every ten minutes."

"Your stomach is still not settled?"

"It's not really that… I mean, I only feel a little queasy now, but I don't want to chance it."

"You'll have to eat soon, Mikaela," Ratchet warned her.

"Yep, I know. I'll grab something light before the end of the day… some crackers or toast or something."

Ratchet merely resumed his grumbling as they pulled back onto the road. From Flagstaff it was another hour and a half (and another two bottles of tea, per Ratchet's orders) to another circle of civilization called Holbrook. Holbrook was a small town outside the Petrified Forest, which, as Mikaela soon realized, was not really a forest at all, but a National Park founded on fossilized trees that had fallen thousands of years ago. She gazed raptly at the fossilized trees as they swept by, earning a small grunt of displeasure from Ratchet as she pressed her face against the window eagerly.

"Hey Ratch, can we-"

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Could we just-"

"_No_."

Mikaela sat back in her seat, crossing her arms and pouting. "You're no fun."

"We're running late, Mikaela," Ratchet insisted.

"I know," she sighed. "Maybe we can see it on the way back?"

"Perhaps."

Mikaela loosed a dramatic, long-suffering sigh and leaned her head against the window again, staring through the glass for a few more moments before falling into a doze. When she woke up, it was to the sound of a nearby horn honking and several resounding loudly in response. She blinked heavily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of a hand and sitting up straight to look out Ratchet's windshield.

"Where are we?" she asked, not bothering to stifle a yawn.

"We're in Albuquerque," Ratchet informed her, sounding annoyed.

"New Mexico?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes. You slept for about four hours."

"Holy crap," Mikaela said, blinking. "I think I'm turning into a narcoleptic."

Ratchet didn't have a response for that, instead focusing on the back up of traffic that they had somehow found themselves in. He growled and grumbled at other cars (and sometimes their drivers when they didn't move fast enough or dared to honk at him) as they moved along – Mikaela thought they were probably going a whole fifteen miles an hour down the interstate through town.

Two hours later (and now more time behind schedule) saw them within Santa Fe city limits. It was here that Ratchet decided that Mikaela needed to eat and refused to heed her protests when she said she didn't want anything. He pulled up to a relatively small general/grocery store off the freeway and Mikaela grudgingly hopped out.

"Get something light, at least," he said as she walked away. "And _no_ junkfood!"

Mikaela shoved her hands in her pockets, muttering angrily to herself as she walked through the automatic doors and into the store, tossing a dirty look at the rep. behind the customer service counter when he tilted an eyebrow at her in amusement.

She emerged from the store fifteen minutes later, climbing into Ratchet's cab (still muttering) and dumping her bag's contents – a box of saltines, two bottles of 7UP, a banana and some antacid- across his seats.

"Happy now?" she asked, annoyed.

"Much better," Ratchet replied mildly, seeming amused at her offense.

Mikaela merely continued grumbling at muttering, nibbling at her crackers as they resumed driving and Ratchet could not help a mental grin at the thought that his assistant apparently picked up his behaviors very easily.

It was another three hours and two hundred miles or so to the Colorado state line, into a town called Trinidad. By the time they had crossed over from New Mexico, the sun was dipping low below the horizon and Mikaela, stiff, sore and sleepy, was getting more and more cranky with every moment that dragged by. Ratchet, ever observant, broke the long silence as they left Trinidad, heading north.

"Once we get to Pueblo, we'll get you a room for the night," he said, and Mikaela thought he sounded tired, but, knowing that he would probably argue, couldn't muster the will to comment on it. "Our guide has been informed that we are coming in now, but it's getting dark and will be too late for us to do what we came for. We will have to wait until tomorrow, when it is daylight."

"Do we know where we're going?" Mikaela asked, stifling a yawn with her hand. "Where we're staying, I mean?"

"Yes, they've procured a room for you for the duration of our stay at a hotel on the northern end of town called Holiday Inn," Ratchet explained.

"And what about you?"

"I was offered board in a warehouse just outside of town at the airway museum. They had it set up to suit my size."

"Had?"

"Do you honestly think I would leave you at the hotel on your own?"

Mikaela blinked. "Oh, no, no, _no_. Ratchet, you are _not_ staying in a hotel parking lot for… for however long we're here."

"I see no other option," Ratchet said dryly, "As I cannot very well fit myself into the room set aside for you."

Mikaela slapped a hand to her forehead in exasperation. "Damn it, Ratchet!"

"Damn it, Mikaela," Ratchet repeated in monotone, unenthused.

"Don't you think you should consider yourself?" Mikaela growled, smacking at the dashboard. "I'll be fine on my own!"

"And if you are attacked by a 'Con? What will you do then? Throw your purse? Stab it in the optic with your lip gloss?"

Mikaela twitched in surprise. '_I had no idea he had it in him_,' she thought to herself. '_Okay, maybe I did. But still._'

She pushed her amusement at his comment aside for another time, narrowing her eyes with dangerous intensity.

Ratchet took her silence as submission to his point and said "Exactly. There isn't anything you could do to defend yourself if you were attacked, Mikaela."

Mikaela glared heatedly at the dashboard.

"I don't even wear lip gloss, ya big green jackass! If you've got a problem with me staying at the hotel by myself, why don't I just come and stay at the warehouse thing with _you_?" She countered.

"I highly doubt they have human beds set out, Mikaela."

"I can sleep on your seats."

"You've been sitting in my cab the entire drive, I am certain you're tired of it," Ratchet pointed out. Then, as an afterthought; "And I can feel the stiffness in your muscles from here."

"So? _You_ deserve a little comfort," Mikaela retorted irritably. "I'm not about to let you sit out in a tiny little parking spot in your alt. mode in the wind, rain, heat and God-only-knows-what-other kind of weather. Think about yourself, _for once _in your existence."

A heavy mechanical sigh trickled out of Ratchet's speakers, and Mikaela had the distinct impression that the CMO was attempting to curl in on himself. She felt guilty instantly.

"Look, Ratch," she sighed, "I'm sorry. I just… I don't like the idea of you being uncomfortable while I'm comfortable when there's another option. I would be fine with sleeping in your cab for a few days, or however long we're here. You'll be comfortable and I'll be safe at the same time."

Ratchet, unable to further argue her point, conceded with; "We'll talk about this later. For tonight, though, you will have to settle for the hotel. It's already been booked and it would not be fair of us to ask for our receiving organization and guide to change everything at the last moment."

Mikaela, as much as she wanted to, couldn't argue the logic in Ratchet's point. She huffed and flopped back onto the seat dramatically. Cracking open her last 7up and sipping at it moodily, she stared out the window at the scenery as the colors began to change with the setting sun. The vegetation (or lack thereof) had gradually, over the state line, bled into an odd sort of desert-prairie hybrid. When she had asked Ratchet about it, he had informed her that the term was semi-arid desert, and much of the southern and eastern parts of the state had the same terrain.

He also explained that the state was diverse, as far as landscape went. The desert gradually eased and dissipated completely the further east one went, eventually turning into the start of the rolling Great Plains. If the interstate they were currently on were to be followed north, the desert would taper off about halfway up the state before turning into a greener, foot-hill terrain. West were the huge peaks of the Rocky Mountains and the sub-range of the Sangre de Cristo's, constantly looming, blue, on the horizon. Pueblo, Ratchet also explained, was the hottest, driest place in the state, and its largest desert city.

Mikaela huffed, crossing her arms. "Stupid friggin' terrain can't make up its mind."

She knew there was no real reason for her crabbiness, other than such a long and boring car ride coupled with the aftereffects of food poisoning, but that didn't stop her from pouting. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she caught the chuckle Ratchet was apparently unable to hold back.

When they rounded a bend, however, Mikaela's thoughts on her bad mood evaporated in the wake of the scenery change. Looking out Ratchet's driver's side window, she saw the mountains he mentioned, standing in sharp contrast to the dusky sky, the sun setting behind them – casting all of the foothills in the shadow of late evening. As the sun set, the last rays of its light crested the mountain peak, making the clouds above look wavy in the light. She pulled her iPod out of her pocket, switching to its forward-facing camera and snapping a few photos, making a mental reminder to post them for Sam on Facebook later.

Perhaps with an added bit of '_Nyah, nyah, look where I am! Hawaii isn't the only pretty state! Bitch.'_

She stuffed her iPod back into her pocket with a self-satisfied little grin. A glance at the clock on the dash told her that it was just after 8pm. "How much longer until… until-"

"Pueblo."

"How much longer until _Pueblo_," Mikaela asked.

"An hour and a half, conditions permitting."

Mikaela huffed a somewhat irritated sigh, blowing her hair out of her face.

"Almost there," Ratchet said, his voice placating. "Not long now."

"Tell that to my legs," Mikaela grumbled, stretching out across the seat. "So, remind me what the game plan is again?"

"For tomorrow? We will meet with our assigned guide in the morning, and he will take us to one of several points of observation. He has not been given much information on the whereabouts of the signal we picked up, as that has mostly been contained within the Autobots and certain members of N.E.S.T."

"Oh. Well, what are we going to do?"

"We will investigate and use his knowledge of the area, along with what we know, to determine why the Decepticons are here and what they are after."

"And from there?"

"From there we do our best to stop them. We may need to, at that point, call for backup to solve the situation. It depends on how many 'Cons are involved, who they are and if we catch them at all."

Mikaela nodded, trying not to think about Ratchet being outnumbered by multiple Decepticons. She had faith in him, to be sure, but the nightmare had still rattled her and she knew that she was going to be somewhat clingy for a while – part of the reason she insisted on staying with him at the warehouse they had set up, not that she'd ever admit it to him.

She tried halfheartedly to fall back to sleep for the remainder of the drive, but the endeavor proved unsuccessful. Eventually she resigned herself to staring at the window into the darkness, watching as the occasional car passed by in the oncoming lane. She was nearly beside herself with boredom when they finally crested a small hill and a patch of lights in the distance made her sit up and stare out the window.

"Is that it?"

"Yes," Ratchet said, his voice betraying his exhaustion. "That is it. Thank Primus."

"No kidding," Mikaela laughed, slumping back down in her seat with relief. "It's about damn time."

As it turned out, Pueblo was a small town, and Mikaela judged that it took roughly fifteen minutes to get from one side of town to the other. The hotel that she was staying at was, as Ratchet mentioned, the Holiday Inn on the north side (she didn't even know towns this small could be classified as having 'sides'). It was so far north, in fact, that is was on the outskirts of the city limits, looking down on most of the town from a high ridge. Mikaela could see clear to the southern city limits from the parking lot.

Her heart nearly burst in joy as Ratchet's alt. form slowed to a stop and the sound of the engine died. She popped the door open immediately, sliding from his seats and cursing when her legs nearly buckled underneath her weight. It had been several hours since their last stop, and the cramps in Mikaela's legs reminded her of it vehemently. She cursed, limping around in a circle for a moment before leaning stiffly on Ratchet's side.

"Are you alright?"

"Yep," she hissed. "Fine. Just stiff. Workin' it out."

"Go on up and get settled, Mikaela," Ratchet encouraged. "The room has already been paid for. You just need to go to the front desk and get your key cards. The room number is 104, just give them that and your name."

Mikaela dealt Ratchet a hard look, hoping to get the message that she didn't like leaving him out here in the parking lot alone across with just a look. It seemed to work. Ratchet nudged her with the open door, his voice tired; "Go on, youngling. Your room faces the back on the ground floor, so I'll pull around and stay next to your window. I'm going to confirm our arrival with Optimus and fall into recharge immediately. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Mikaela said hesitantly. "If you're sure."

"I am."

"Kay. I guess I'll see you in the morning, then," Mikaela leaned forward against his hood, splaying her arms and legs in what could constitute as a car hug, not caring that she probably looked absolutely insane to anyone who might see her. "G'night, Ratchet."

"Good night, little one. Sleep well."

Mikaela hobbled her way over to the hotel entrance, stopping in the entryway and turning back to deal the Hummer one last smile before stepping inside. The place was immaculate, but welcoming, and check-in went mercifully quick. Mikaela quickly made her way through the halls, finding her door and somehow summoning the dexterity to unlock it with the keycard on the first try. She pushed the door open, and dropped her bag on the couch in the sitting area, kicking off her shoes and dropping her jeans as she stumbled into the bedroom. She looked out the window and gave the Hummer sitting underneath it a thumbs up, smiling when she got a flash of headlights in response. She turned back toward the bed and pulled the sheet and comforter down and flipped off the lights.

She flopped down on the mattress and was instantly carried off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** My apologies for the very short chapter, ladies and gentlemen. I've had a minor accident recently (as noted in my other ongoing fic) that ended in a concussion and some pretty extensive damage to my left hand/wrist. Between the headaches from the bump on the head and the problems with typing I've had over the last couple weeks, staying on the computer for long periods of time is kind of hard. That being said, I'm hoping to make the next chapter extra long to make up for it!

Also, I've introduced an original character in this chapter (the name has been changed from where they were mentioned once in a previous chapter) in the form of the liaison/guide for Ratchet and Mikaela while they are in Colorado. I originally intended for the character to be short-lived, as a kind of medium for their introduction, but they have wormed their way into a couple more chapters. I'm rather unfamiliar with creating characters out of nothing, so I'd like to know your opinion on whether you like the character and whether you would like to see them written in as a main character, or if I should get rid of them after they've served their purpose.

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><p>The next morning dawned so bright that the sudden change in light, even through the curtains, woke Mikaela from a particularly deep slumber. She groaned, opening her eyes and squinting against the offensive light and glaring at the insufficient curtains with the dirtiest look she could manage. Still unwilling to move from her position (half on the bed with her right arm and leg draped over the side to dangle just above the floor), she buried her face in the down pillow with a pitiful whine.<p>

Less than five minutes later, just as she was falling back to sleep, something tapped at her window. She pointedly ignored it in favor of tugging the covers up over her head.

A second tap, also ignored… And then her cellphone began to ring. Grumbling, she fumbled around blindly on the nightstand until she felt it vibrating against her fingers.

"Mhelloooo?" she answered.

"Good morning, Mikaela," a polite, slightly accented voice responded. Mikaela promptly flipped the phone shut, ending the call.

It rang again.

"_What_?" she snapped, after flipping it back open.

"_Why _must you be so difficult in the morning?" the voice asked, sounding somewhere between amused and annoyed.

"Shhhuuuddup, Ratchet."

"Good morning to you, too," Ratchet responded smugly. "It's time to get up."

"No it isn't," she said simply, tossing the phone into an empty chair next to the bed.

Mikaela narrowly kept herself from jumping out of her skin as she rolled over to go back to sleep and spotted the figure at the end of the bed.

'_Oh, right. That damned holo. Shoot,' _she thought bitterly, once she had stared at the figure long enough to recognize him.

Glaring, she landed a well aimed kick on the Ratchet's left thigh as she rolled over, grinning slightly in triumph when he bent swiftly to the left with a startled oath, a tight expression on his face. Her eyes widened and she squealed indignantly when he let out a light growl and dove forward toward the bed, taking hold of her ankles and swiftly dragging her from below the shelter and warmth of the blankets and onto the floor.

"You jerk," she pouted, curling up into a ball on the carpet with the pillow she still clutched, wanting desperately to go back to sleep. "Leave me alone!"

"No," Ratchet said simply, lifting her body into a standing system despite her attempt at passive resistance. Mikaela did not let go of the pillow. "You need to get up now, get ready and get a good meal into your system. We need to leave within an hour."

"You want me to wake up, eat a big breakfast, shower, get dressed and make myself look presentable within an hour?"

"Precisely."

"Dream on, rust bucket," she said flippantly, throwing the pillow and snickering when it hit Ratchet square in the face. The CMO growled at her.

"Get that organic, squishy aft of yours in gear, girl!"

"My ass is not squishy!"

Ratchet tilted an eyebrow dryly. "Think what you'd like. Regardless, we can't afford to be late again. Not ideally the way to start out a professional relationship with a liaison."

Mikaela growled under her breath as she trudged past Ratchet, dragging her feet across the carpet.

"Slagging difficult female," Ratchet grumbled at her as she entered the bathroom.

"Glowstick with legs," she shot back, wheeling around to glare at him.

"Irritating organic youngling."

"_Rave club reject_."

Mikaela could not contain her smug grin upon seeing the puzzled look that flitted across Ratchet's face at her last comment before she shut the door on him.

She emerged right on time, just under an hour later, clean, groomed and dressed in long shorts, a T-shirt and sandals. She gave Ratchet, who was standing against the wall holding a plate of food, a sarcastic double-thumbs-up. Ratchet, for his part, merely rolled his eyes in exasperation and handed her the plate of eggs, toast and fresh fruit.

Mikaela took the plate gratefully, unaware of just how hungry she was until the scent of the food reached her nose, and wolfed everything down within five minutes. She chose to ignore Ratchet's unimpressed expression as he watched her swallow most of it whole.

After another five minutes of packing and listening to Ratchet complain about her inability to stay on schedule, Mikaela was finally ready to go. The CMO's holoform shimmered out of existence as she walked out the door, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading out to the parking lot, where the Hummer sat waiting.

Mikaela was relieved that the drive to their destination was only about ten minutes long, and even more relieved that there was virtually no traffic to be seen. The location where they were set to meet their guide ended up being on the western outskirts of the city, where the houses and greenery slowly drifted into cactus, dirt and scrub. The road, now only two lanes, eventually came to a large metal gate, manned by two military personnel, who raised the gate and waved them through with a friendly gesture. Here the road dipped down in a steep curve between plateaus into a rather sudden and well hidden grove of cottonwood trees. The parking lot, Mikaela realized, wrapped around the edge of a heavily flowing river, in close proximity to one relatively small building labeled only as "Office."

Mikaela slid out of Ratchet's cab to stand on the blacktop of the parking lot, having to regulate her breathing immediately to adjust to the stifling heat, and stretched stiffly, groaning as her back popped in ways that she was pretty sure were not healthy. She watched out of the corner of her eye as a very muddied orange jeep pulled into the parking lot several spaces down from where Ratchet had "parked" and a woman who couldn't be older than twenty five stepped out. Mikaela tensed when, after shutting her door and brushing some dirt off of her shorts, the woman headed their direction.

"Hey there," she said brightly, coming to a stop a few feet in front of Mikaela.

"Uhm, hi," Mikaela said, caught off guard. "You work here?"

"Yep."

"Oh. Uh, we're looking for-" Mikaela cut off as the sound of Ratchet's transformation overtook her voice as he twisted and turned, climbing to his feet in his bipedal form behind her. Mikaela's gaze flitted immediately back to the woman standing in front of her, expecting wide-eyed shock, maybe even fear, but was surprised to find nothing more than casual surprise on her features.

"Uh," she said slowly, looking from Mikaela back to the towering form in front of her. "Holy crap."

"Hello," Ratchet said softly, kneeling down on one knee to bring himself closer to the human woman's eye level.

"Er… Hi?"

Mikaela, still surprised by the woman's reaction (or rather lack thereof), eyed her carefully. She didn't _look _military. She was dressed in olive-green canvas shorts, a black tank top and tan, lace-up suede hiking boots, her wrists adorned with several tan and brown colored woven bracelets. She stood at almost six feet tall, not completely round, but curvy with a bone structure that was clearly thicker than the average woman's. She had a black bandana tied tightly around her head to knot in the back at the base of her skull, concealing most of the straw-blond hair that had been tied up into a messy twist/bun at her neck. Her skin was tanned, though Mikaela could tell that it wasn't her natural shade and she had probably gained the darker pigment through a lot of sun exposure. The parts of her shoulders and chest that were not covered by the tank top she wore were heavily peppered with dark freckles that trailed and tapered off down her arms. Her eyes wandered over the skin on the woman's arms and legs, but decidedly could not count the vast number of scars there, though Mikaela easily tallied eleven ear piercings, seven in the right ear and four in the left, and one lip piercing on the left side. The woman's facial features were somewhere in between elegantly feminine and hard set, the corners of her lips quirked up in a seemingly amused smile. Eyes that were somewhere in between blue, green and gray peered through makeup-less skin that was streaked with what looked to be fresh dirt in some places. When she smiled, Mikaela saw a gap between her two front teeth on the top row.

'_Definitely not military…_' Mikaela thought to herself.

Ratchet ambled up next to her suddenly, the heat radiating off of his bright armor in waves, making Mikaela flinch away from the intense additive to the already perilously high temperature.

"It's friggin hot," she said, lifting her hair off of her neck in attempt to cool her rapidly overheating skin.

The blond-haired woman laughed, a surprisingly soft sound from someone who looked almost anything but. "It's mild today, only a hundred and three degrees," she declared, her eyes dancing with humor. Mikaela favored her with a very Ratchet-esque glare.

"One hundred and three degrees? That's not _mild_."

"It is here," the woman countered kindly. "We're well-known for commonly having 110 degree weather."

"Oh," Mikaela said, sounding somewhat miserable at the information. "Well, we're looking for our guide…"

"Yes," the woman replied, putting a hand on a hip and swiping at her forehead with the back of a tanned forearm. "That's me."

Mikaela opened her mouth to say something, but Ratchet beat her to the punch.

"My apologies," the CMO said suddenly, "I was given to understand our guide would be Mister Charles Bailey."

The woman barked a surprised laugh. "_Charlotte_ Bailey, if you please. And I'm no mister."

Ratchet appeared dumbfounded. "I apologize, Miss Bailey," he said, with the good grace to sound embarrassed, "It has… been a long trip."

"Don't worry about it," the woman assured, waving her hand dismissively. "Our secretaries make that mistake all the time. You're not the first show up surprised that I'm not a male, and I'm sure you won't be the last."

Mikaela looked up at Ratchet, who, for once, came up with nothing to say. Taking the initiative, she stepped forward with an outstretched hand. "Miss Bailey, I'm Mikaela Banes and this is N.E.S.T.'s Chief Medical Officer, Ratchet."

"Of course. It's a pleasure to meet you," the woman said, smiling brightly to reveal the characteristic gap in her teeth again. "And please, call me Charli. I'm not old enough to be 'Miss Bailey' just yet."

"Charli," Ratchet said, still crouched to a nonthreatening height. He offered a giant finger out to their guide, who touched it with her hand in greeting. "Thank you for the warm welcome."

"I promise I don't always look this brutish," Charli assured them, patting the dust out of her shorts with a lopsided grin that reminded Mikaela instantly of a certain red Lamborghini twin. "I just came back from the desert with a rather large group that had a wonderful taste for adventure."

Mikaela resisted the urge to tilt an eyebrow in a very Ratchet-esque manner. "So, what's on the agenda?"

"Well, the briefing I got said that you guys are looking for anything incredibly out of ordinary here, but I wasn't told a whole lot more. I suppose that won't be too hard to spot, given that we're a relatively small community with a firm sense of what's normal in these parts," the guide said. "So what do you say we get up to a high point and survey the city a bit, so that at least y'all can get a good idea of where you are?"

"A good start," Ratchet said, straightening to his full height again. "Where would you like to begin?"

"Hmm." Charli turned, scoping out the big, scrub covered plateaus that jutted out sharply above the curve of the road and followed the river beyond sight. "How about we go on up to the top there and have a look?"

"Okay," Mikaela agreed, seeing Ratchet nod his affirmative. He transformed swiftly, opening his doors as an invitation to the two girls after he had settled on his wheels.

"Bet that never gets old," Mikaela heard Charli mumble to herself as she slid into the seat beside her. She resisted the urge to comment as they started up the road, deciding instead to smile to herself.

Upon their arrival at the top of the plateau, Mikaela was reminded yet again that the change in temperature between Ratchet's well-cooled interior and the suffocating heat outside was nearly enough to lay her out flat as she stepped out. The fine, silk-like dust was so hot and dry that it burned her feet when it managed to spill over the tops of her flip flops as she walked. Try as she might, Mikaela couldn't balance her weight carefully enough to avoid sinking several inches into the ground below her feet and she tossed an envious glance at Charli, who had made a much wiser choice in footwear out of her boots. Crinkling her nose and shaking her legs in turn to dislodge the offending dirt from her shoes, Mikaela stopped on the top of the ridge to survey the sprawling land below. She coughed slightly, waving an exasperated hand in front of her face and blowing hot air out of her nostrils as the dust signaling Ratchet's approach infiltrated her lungs as he walked up next to her.

"It's so dry here," she griped, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the offending sun. The heat beat down on her in waves, immediately making her face damp with sweat and she drew the hand that she had protected her eyes with over her forehead, grimacing as she felt the grittiness of dust that had apparently settled on her skin, along with everything else. "How do you guys stand it?"

Charli came to stand beside her, drawing her dark sunglasses down from where they rested on her bandana to protect her eyes. She smiled amicably and explained;

"Most of us were born here. I hear it takes a little getting used to, but once you adjust, it's hard to imagine yourself anywhere else."

Mikaela eyed her as if she had grown a second set of limbs. "I don't think I could ever get used to this."

"You'd be surprised," Charli laughed, "The air here is something else. We're one of the hottest places in the United States in the summer, but we also happen to be colder than most parts of the northern half of the country in the winter. The air is clean and breathable… That is, when you aren't out here in the dust, breathing what you stir up with your feet."

Mikaela considered this for a moment, leaning against Ratchet's leg, attempting to immerse herself in the shade it provided. She concentrated on her breathing and after a minute or so passed, she conceded; "Yeah, I guess. The air does seem a little easier to breathe, and you guys do have incredible scenery."

"We do," Charli responded, somewhat wistfully. "Can't picture myself anywhere else."

Ratchet, who had been strangely silent, spoke suddenly, his voice a sharp contrast to the two females. "Have you noticed any unusual activity of late, Charli? We picked up some unusual signals over on the eastern outskirts of town. Have you seen any machinery or vehicles that seem out of place around that area?"

The fair-haired woman pursed her lips and brought her hands to rest on her hips, appearing in deep thought. After a moment, she turned to point southeast of the ridge they stood on. "There's been a whole lot of construction over off the Fountain Creek on the east side of town, beyond an area called Dog Patch. That's all that I can think of, really."

"Do you know what they're building?"

"Well, supposedly it's a vacuum system for the creek," she explained, crossing her arms and taking on a posture that made it clear that she did not much care for the idea. "They recently started work on a project called SDS, or the 'Southern Delivery System.'"

Ratchet scanned the internet, quickly locating and scanning the files that came up for the area under the supplied name. "The Southern Delivery System is an agreement between your city and another city called Colorado Springs, north of here. It's an agreement pertaining to…" he hesitated momentarily, "Water?"

"Yeah. It's a load of crap, if you ask me," Charli snorted. "Springs is insisting that they own the rights to some of the water that we have in our reservoir. Don't know how, as the Arkansas River never even comes within 30 miles of that damn city. They're just being greedy. Can't keep their own water clean, so they want to take ours."

"How is that connected to the… the vacuum?" Mikaela asked curiously.

"Well, in exchange for taking a percentage of the water from the Pueblo Reservoir, they are going to allow us more access to Fountain Creek, which flows from Springs, south through Pueblo and empties into the Arkansas at the confluence just outside of town," she pulled a face here, as if the very idea disgusted her. "Fountain Creek is a cesspool, full of bacteria and waste. They may as well be trading raw sewage. Anyway, the vacuum is supposed to be set up to filter out a lot of the sediment and silt at the bottom of the creek, to make the water a little cleaner. It's a stretch. Don't know how they think that's gonna work."

"So, Fountain Creek flows south from Colorado Springs and through Pueblo," Mikaela ventured, "Where does the Arkansas River flow? You said it supplies your reservoir?"

"Yep," Charli answered, shoving her hands into her pockets. "The Arkansas starts here in Colorado. Our snow runoff supplies it, and it flows down from the mountains west of us, through Pueblo, where it's dammed at our reservoir, and then continues east, eventually merging with the Mississippi."

"It never goes anywhere near Colorado Springs," Ratchet said, more of a statement than a question. Charli shook her head to confirm. "Hmm. Tell me more about this vacuum."

"I don't know much about it really. They've been debating over this whole SDS thing for years, but have only just recently started construction on the pipeline that will draw water from the reservoir and deliver it to Springs. The vacuum… is a relatively new development," she said, pushing her sunglasses back up over her forehead and squinting into the sun. "It's being built southeast of here, like I mentioned earlier. Near Runyon Lake. I haven't been out to the site yet, because they've got it all blocked off."

Mikaela turned to Ratchet. "What do you think, Ratch? Should we check it out?"

Ratchet hummed in thought. "What is the nearest prominent landmark to the construction site?" he asked.

"Uhm…The confluence, I suppose. Where the Fountain and the Arkansas meet."

The silence that blanketed them momentarily was suddenly interrupting by the clicking whirrs and clanks of metal as Ratchet swiftly transformed. "Get in," he said gruffly.

"Ratch?" Mikaela asked, slightly alarmed as she climbed into the driver's side of the cab. "What's up?"

"Nothing to be alarmed over, just yet," Ratchet reassured as the doors snapped closed. "The area that was just described is the precise location where the Decepticon signals were last picked up."


	6. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** So, so sorry for the delay in updates! Life got hectic on me, and this story is fighting me the whole way. This chapter is somewhat key to the plot I've got playing around in my mind. Some rather important key terms for this chapter at the bottom of the page! Enjoy. :)

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><p>Moving from where they were on the far west outskirts of town to the far east border took less than half an hour, and Mikaela felt that she had hardly gotten settled in before they were already coming off the paved street and onto another dirt road. This road, unlike the last one, covered a flat space that ran along an edge of elm trees that Charli said bordered the creek. They followed the road a good ten minutes into the middle of nowhere, and Mikaela had just spotted the end of the gravel when they took another right turn into a trodden down dirt lot that was cordoned off with traffic pylons and tape. Charli had just opened her mouth to presumably offer to go and move the cones when Ratchet plowed straight through, knocking them aside and snapping the tape with his bumper. Mikaela merely shrugged at their guide's perplexed look.<p>

"So what's the gameplan, Ratch?" Mikaela asked, peering through the window as they approached the trees.

"Right now, we observe and record. I want to get a look at the site for my documents and try to ascertain the purpose of their presence here."

"What if we run into them?"

"Highly unlikely – their signals are nowhere in the area currently. I'm not picking them up on my radar, so they have to be dozens of miles away at the very least," Ratchet said. "I am not expecting a fight."

Mikaela and Charli hopped out as soon as they were stopped so that Ratchet could transform, and headed for the trees on the side of the lot. There were several marks in the dirt from the treads of heavy construction equipment that led through a gap in the elms and up a small hill. Mikaela cursed her choice of open-toed footwear again when twigs, dirt and leaves invaded her shoes as they walked through the trees, Ratchet weaving around the vegetation in his bipedal mode behind them. They came to the top of the hill and the trees ended abruptly as the terrain went from dry to somewhat sodden.

As they began to descent the shallow slope, a sudden squelching noise and a frustrated grunt from behind them made Mikaela turn to look over her shoulder at Ratchet, who appeared to be having a difficult time navigating the soft terrain.

"I cannot go further," the CMO informed them, sounding frustrated. "My weight is too much. I will sink."

"Don't worry, Ratch," Mikaela said, ambling back up the small hill to pat him on the leg. "We'll go check it out."

Ratchet looked hesitant.

"We'll be fine," she reassured him, looking back in the direction that Charli had headed as their guide crested the next small bump in the landscape. "You said there are no signals there right now anyway, and I'm pretty sure crazy blond lady knows what she's doing."

"Be careful, both of you," Ratchet conceded, frowning. "And call me immediately if you see anything that can be deemed suspicious or unsafe."

Mikaela gave him a mock salute and turned to head back down the small incline. "Will do, chief."

It didn't take her long to scramble up the next small hill to where Charli stood. The guide pointed down the shallow slope and Mikaela saw a river (at least what _she_ classified as a river) flowing slowly, encased in rock-less, sandy banks. She plugged her nose with one hand, waving the other in front of her face to demonstrate her disgust at the smell that was suddenly assaulting her nostrils.

"Dat's da Fountain?" she asked, not caring how ridiculous she sounded with her nose closed. Charli nodded and pulled a blue bandana out of her back pocket and handed it to Mikaela without so much as batting an eyelash. Mikaela quickly covered her nose and mouth with it, knotting it at the back, relieved that it smelled like fresh laundry rather than stagnated bacteria.

The traipsed down the slope together, slipping and sliding slightly on the wet ground, and Mikaela was slightly disheartened to find that the closer they got to the water, the more muddy things became. Once again, she wished she had better shoes as she tried to keep her balance and stop herself from a humiliating tumble into the mud.

She stopped for a moment to catch her breath behind the bandana, putting her hands on her hips as she surveyed the area around them. The creek was deep set between hills, far away from the majority of the population in this particular area and Mikaela remembered what Charli had said about the creek being a literal cesspool. Her nose crinkled behind the bandana and she couldn't help but agree – it smelled absolutely terrible.

"Mikaela," Charli said suddenly, beckoning the mechanic over to where she stood with a wave of her hand. "Come and look at this."

Mikaela approached cautiously, careful not to slip and slide on the muddy ground, and peered at what their guide was pointing at. Several deep, strangely shaped impressions were visible in the soft ground. They looked alarmingly like…

"Footprints."

Charli looked at her in surprise. "You think? That's not the shape that Ratchet's feet are…"

"They all have different shaped feet," Mikaela said, pulling out her iPod and snapping a photo of the print. "Let's split up and look around. See if you can find any more."

"Okay," Charli said. "Yell for me if you see anything, okay?"

"Sure," Mikaela said, slipping the iPod back into her pocket. "You do the same?"

"Yup."

Mikaela made her way down to the water's edge, where the ground was sandy, but remarkably soft. She squinted in the direction that the water was flowing and spotted upsets in the level ground and mounds of dirt and sandy silt piled high next to places that were obviously digging sites and decided to head in that direction. It was slow going; even though the sand was not nearly as slippery as the mud had been, it was much less compacted and Mikaela found herself struggling not to sink into it as she tried to walk across the top. Puffing and panting after a great deal of effort, she eventually arrived at the spot she had scoped out from upstream. The ground was completely dug out here, revealing several pits that were ranging in depth from six to fifteen feet by estimation. She whipped out her camera again and began snapping photos of each pit and the compacted tracks around them.

As she edged her way around the depressions, she came upon a deeply dug trench which fed a moderate flow of Fountain creek into an upward sloping tube. The tube, which was about ten feet long, fed into a huge, strange looking machine that whirred and rumbled loudly as it worked. Mikaela snapped a few more photos and made her way back to the main part of the shore, where she could shout for Charli.

Coming around the curve of the creek, she spotted the guide heading in her direction and moved to meet her. When they met, Charli sounded breathless.

"Was wondering where you went off to. Shouted for you a couple of times, but didn't hear ya. Was just coming to look for you."

"Did you find anything?" Mikaela asked, removing the bandana from her face and handing it back to the guide as she spoke.

"Just a few more different sets of prints," Charli said. "I took photos. You?"

"Yeah, I found this weird machine thing and a bunch of pits," Mikaela informed her, showing her the pictures that she had snapped.

Charli nodded. "Yeah, that's the filter… kind of strange that it doesn't have an output, though."

"An output?"

"Yeah. The way it's supposed to work is it sucks up silt and sand and sediment from the creek, filters it out and then deposits the bad stuff in a pile. Yanno?"

"The only piles I saw were next to the pits."

"Yeah, that's what's weird. Those piles of sand are clearly refuse from the digging… but I don't see a deposit from the filter. Maybe it's not running yet."

"No, it was on," Mikaela said, shaking her head. "It was going. I heard it sucking up water and stuff from the pipe."

"Huh… Strange," Charli frowned. "Okay, well, let's get back to Ratchet and show him what we've found."

Mikaela nodded, glancing in the direction of the slope that was east of the creek. Ratchet was probably bored out of his processor by now. The thought had Mikaela smirking as she carefully padded along beside Charli as they made their way off the sand and back to the mud. She nearly bumped right into their guide's back when Charli stopped suddenly at the edge of the sand.

"What is it?" Mikaela asked, glancing around.

"Uh… I think we should backtrack and take the same way we came back up the hill."

"Why? This way is faster."

"Well, I can't tell how soft the ground is here," Charli explained. "The ground we walked in on was muddy but it was at least firm enough so that we didn't sink."

"Speak for yourself," Mikaela said, stepping forward. She regretted it the instant her feet hit the mud.

Clamping her mouth shut on a surprised yelp as she sunk a good 15 inches into the black ground, Mikaela nearly gagged on the rank, stale smell of the silt as it reached her nose. She looked over at Charli with eyes widened in surprise. Charli merely closed her eyes and shook her head, an action that had Mikaela feeling suddenly foolish.

"Help?" Mikaela squawked as she tried to pull herself out unsuccessfully.

Charli sighed. "Just stay still, I'll be right there."

Mikaela nodded silently, watching in slight apprehension as the blonde skirted the edge of the mud, poking at it with her boot now and again, making slow progress toward her. Charli nodded to herself and took a couple of steps out onto the mud. Things looked optimistic for all of three more steps before the guide, despite her boots, was suddenly sucked into the ground nearly up to her thighs with a slightly alarming _sluuurrrp_.

"Goddamn it," Charli swore. Mikaela winced, wondering if they would have to call for Ratchet. Her question was answered when Charli, cursing and muttering under her breath, began to wiggle her hips in what, to Mikaela, looked like an exaggerated version of the cha-cha. She watched in fascination as their guide was able to pull herself free of the silt, one leg at a time. Charli crouched on top like a cat, spreading her weight evenly between both feet as she held a hand out to Mikaela, directing her to do the same. The young mechanic attempted to wiggle her way out of the heavy mud in the same fashion, feeling victorious as her legs resurfaced all the way up to her ankles. She let out a relieved sigh as she pulled her right leg up sharply and had all of three seconds to realize her mistake when the limb did not pull free as she hoped, but was sucked back down with a rather sickening slurp, causing her to overbalance and lean forward too far. Falling with her arms wind-milling wildly, Mikaela sucked in a sharp breath and screwed her eyes shut right before her entire front made contact with the muddy ground with a sharp and appalling _splat!._

She let out a disgusted shout and scrambled to her hands and knees immediately, using the back of an arm to desperately wipe the offensive mud off of her face.

"Shit," Charli cursed, edging closer as quickly as she could without landing herself in a similar predicament. "You okay?"

Mikaela turned her head to look at the blonde, glaring, and Charli retained a poker-face for all of five seconds before bursting into hysterical laughter at the sight. Mikaela continued to glower through the mud.

It took a few moments for the guide to collect herself enough to gasp "Sorry, sorry," at Mikaela and she was still giggling as she held a hand out to the soiled mechanic. Mikaela took the proffered help, hauling herself to her feet carefully with the assistance and assessing her muddied front with disdain. She looked at Charli helplessly, sticking her bottom lip out in an angry pout.

"I smell."

Charli snorted inelegantly, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth in order to stifle the second bout of laughter that was threatening to spill over. Miraculously, she kept herself in check – if not for her balance's sake, for Mikaela's.

"Nothing that a cool shower and some soap won't fix," she said evenly, handing the blue bandana back to Mikaela so that she could wipe her face. "Come on, let's get back to Ratchet."

After taking the long way back, with no further argument from Mikaela, the two muddied women finally crested the hill, where Ratchet stood waiting in his bipedal form. He eyes them with something stuck between curiosity, amusement and concern as they approached him.

"Don't you say a word," Mikaela growled, leveling an accusing finger at Ratchet, who held up his hands defensively, shaking his head as she walked past.

"I wouldn't _dare_," the CMO mumbled sarcastically. Mikaela wheeled back around to give him a threatening look.

"What was that, Ratchet?"

"I said nothing," he responded innocently and strategically cut off Mikaela's response by transforming back into his alt. mode.

Charli snickered behind them as she walked up to stand beside the soiled Mikaela.

"Did you find anything?" the CMO asked as they climbed into the cab and shut the doors behind them.

"Yeah, we did," Mikaela said, attempting to brush the mud from her skin. "We took photos. We'll show you when we get back."

"Don't you get that stuff on my interior, girl," Ratchet said. "It would be itchy as the Pit."

"Nah, you think?" Mikaela said casually. "You sound like Ironhide."

"Watch it now," the CMO warned. "Who is your ride home?"

"Oh, by the way," Mikaela said suddenly, ignoring Ratchet's not-so-subtle threat and turning to Charli. "I meant to ask you something."

"Ask away," Charli prompted, distractedly picking bits of mud and grass off her legs.

"I wondered if it was at all possible if I could stay at the warehouse you guys have set aside for Ratchet with him."

There was a surprised stuttering noise from the Hummer's speakers and Mikaela smirked.

"Oh, don't think I've forgotten about our discussion last night, Ratchet," she said smugly. "'Cause I haven't."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ratchet sighed.

"Probably because, as women, we never forget?" Charli offered helpfully, winking at Mikaela, who quirked a sideways grin at her in return.

"So," Mikaela said, rubbing her hands together. "What do you think, Charli? Is it doable?"

"Oh, certainly," Charli said, completely ignoring the feeling that the steering wheel of the Hummer was _glaring_ at her. "It's definitely doable."

"Is this warehouse fit for human habitation?" Ratchet asked skeptically, annoyance coloring his voice.

"The 'warehouse' used to be a part-time training facility, and it had locker rooms for the techs, so I assume there are still shower stalls in there. It does have running water currently. We turned it back on in preparation for your arrival. It also has a little kitchen lounge thing and some small dorm rooms."

"How come it's not used anymore?" Mikaela asked curiously.

"Oh, they finished work on a newer, state-of-the-art facility to replace it about a month ago. Freed up just in time for your arrival. It's been modified specifically for your stay, Ratchet."

"So it's okay if I stay there? It won't be inconveniencing anyone or putting a kink in our plans?"

"Oh, no. Your guy from N.E.S.T. thought you might prefer it that way," Charli said, leaning forward on the seat to glance through Ratchet's windshield. "So we set it up to be habitable for both of you, just in case- Turn here, Ratchet."

"Yes, _thankyou_," Ratchet said, somewhat snippy in his irritation at being overridden by the two females. "I know the way."

Charli, not one to be bothered, sat back with a smirk and pretended to stretch, elbowing the door of the Hummer hard in the process. Mikaela snorted. Ratchet said nothing.

After another fifteen minutes, Ratchet veered left across the highway onto a nearly invisible dirt road that led, between trees, through several empty fields. Mikaela frowned. What was it with this little town and their damn dirt roads? She'd probably have to give Ratchet a good hosing down later, before he got too caked with dirt to even transform. They followed the road for about fifteen more minutes before the vegetation suddenly gave way to pavement and a moderately large concrete building jutted into view.

Ratchet pulled up and let the girls out before transforming to stand beside them and Charli walked up to the building to casually type what must have been a twenty digit code into the keypad next an enormous metal door. The access light flashed green three times before the keypad flipped suddenly, revealing a smooth, glassy looking surface. Charli put her hand down flat on the glass, holding still as it scanned her prints before flashing green three times once more. Mikaela heard the huge, mechanical locks rumbling as they twisted on the giant metal door to admit them.

"Whoa," Mikaela whistled appreciatively. "Advanced."

"As per request of the leader of N.E.S.T.," Charli said, pulling the rig on the doors so they swung open with a long creak. "You and Ratchet are to have the utmost security while you stay here."

Ratchet mumbled something about Optimus being overly concerned as they stepped inside the doors. Charli flipped a breaker switch and suddenly the entire building was lit brightly.

Mikaela stared incredulously, silently thanking whoever it was from N.E.S.T. that had tipped off the local organization about accommodation preferences – Probably Optimus, she thought. Allowing her eyes to roam the vast expanse of the warehouse, she whistled appreciatively. When they had said "unused warehouse" the first thing that had come to mind was an abandoned, rusty hangar in the middle of a weed infested lot of broken blacktop. It had not, however, brought to mind the sheer pristine condition of what was now laid out in front of her.

Upon a quick exploration, she found that the warehouse did, indeed, have working wash racks inside of the locker room. A small kitchenette equipped with a refrigerator and table sat in a large corner of the building that had obviously been sectioned off for human use. She threw a quick glance to her right at Ratchet, who looked just as pleasantly surprised as she was as he eyed the sheer size of the main part of the warehouse, which was lined with Autobot-sized shelves and large platform, surrounded by a catwalk reminiscent of the one back on the base in California. A military-style Jumbotron hung heavily over the far side of the platform and Mikaela wondered vaguely if it had cable access.

"Huh," Mikaela said, still staring.

Charli laughed. "Will it do?"

Ratchet seemed to shake himself. "It will do just fine, Charlotte. Thank you."

It didn't take Mikaela long to settle in, particularly since she only had one bag of belongings to unpack. She was pleasantly surprised to find the refrigerator already stocked with a couple days worth of basic necessities such as a half dozen eggs, a small carton of milk, some sandwich stuff, a package of water bottles, a loaf of bread and a couple bags of assorted fruits and veggies. Mikaela was also pleased to see that a doorway in the west wall led to a small room off the main part of the warehouse that had two bunk beds and a small dresser that she could store her clothes and personal items in.

A long shower (for each of the girls) later saw them all gathered around the small table near the corner of the building with Ratchet resting against the wall and Charli and Mikaela inhaling a large bag of gummi worms that the guide had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. Much to Ratchet's chagrin.

The conversation took a turn toward serious when Ratchet prompted them to relay their findings of the afternoon. He was completely baffled upon reviewing the photos that they had collected, though he recognized the prints almost immediately.

"Those are _Constructicons_," he said, sounding disgusted.

"What would the Constructicons want with the creek?" Mikaela asked, equally confused. She shuddered as memories of seeing them in Egypt circled in her mind.

"We need to find out what they are doing here to begin with," Ratchet said.

"Well, it can't be just to hide," Mikaela replied. "There are plenty of less populated places all over the planet to do that."

"Agreed. They must have a need of something that may be limited to this specific area."

"Let's think strategically," Charli offered, swallowing a mouthful of gummi worms. "What are they most in need of, as far as supplies goes?"

"Well," Mikaela began, "There's a constant shortage of energon, for starters. They're always in need of that, on both sides."

"Very true," Ratchet said. "Other than that, both sides are astoundingly shorthanded as far as soldiers are concerned. I very highly doubt, however, that they are looking for Decepticon recruits in your local waterway."

Mikaela rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at Ratchet's off-handed attempt at humor. "So energon and more Decepticons. That's not a very probable list."

"Actually," Ratchet said suddenly, deep thought written on his face. "Actually… there's a possibility that they could be looking for energon."

"You don't think…" Mikaela trailed off, looking over her shoulder to where Ratchet stood against the wall. "Ratch, you don't think that they're trying to _mine_ energon, do you?"

Charli frowned, chewing thoughtfully on her straw, and the action made Mikaela twitch with the sudden urge to smack her. "What do you mean? What's an energon?"

"All Cybertronian life subsists on a liquid nourishment we call energon," Ratchet explained patiently. "It is both our 'food' and our 'drink.' We must have it to survive, and we require no other sustenance."

"And you think they could be mining it out of the _Fountain_?" Charli asked, disgusted by the idea.

Ratchet frowned and became silent. Mikaela was baffled. "Ratch?"

"Mining energon directly from this planet is unheard of. Short of the use of the sun harvester… we have not discovered a way to collect any usable source of energon from Earth," Ratchet finally mumbled, and Mikaela had the impression that he was talking more to himself than them. "But I suppose it's not impossible. Our own detectors have picked up faint traces here and there, but we have never investigated it closely because the possibility of finding liquid energon here is almost nonexistent."

"But there are some types on Earth?" Mikaela asked, wide-eyed. This was new.

"Yes, we have found relatively small amounts of specific types of energon. However…" Ratchet trailed off, his head snapping up suddenly. "Slag."

"What? What's slag?" Charli asked, somewhat alarmed at the sudden change in the atmosphere.

"It basically means 'shit,'" Mikaela told her off-handedly. "What's up, Ratchet? What did you figure out?"

"The energon that has been found on this planet in the past has primarily consisted of energon crystals."

"What does that mean?"

"Crystals are considered unusable because of their volatility. They are highly unstable," Ratchet said, talking so fast that Mikaela could barely keep up. She was about to ask him to slow down when he suddenly lapsed into Cybertronian. Mikaela blinked.

"Uh," Charli said, glancing at Mikaela nervously, her hands hovering half way up to covering her ears. "Am I supposed to be able to understand that?"

"No," Mikaela sighed. She plucked her water bottle off the table and pitched it at Ratchet, nearly ducking out of instinct when it hit him in the side of the helm and he stilled. "Have you glitched? We can't understand Cybertronian!"

"Apologies," Ratchet said tightly, pursing his lip plating together. "I was… theorizing that it is entirely possible that the Decepticons are after energon crystals."

"What's the difference, again?" Charli asked.

"Crystals are not consumable. They are an unstable, rock-like form of energon, found normally in or around water. They emit a radiation that's harmful, even to those of my kind."

"Well," Charli said slowly, glancing between the medic and Mikaela. "That would explain why so many people get sick from coming into contact with Fountain Creek."

"What the heck would the 'Cons want with them if they're so unusable?" Mikaela asked.

"Unusable for _consumption_," Ratchet pointed out. "But not for weaponry."

"Oh," Charli said, sinking back into her chair. "Well sh-…_slag_."

Mikaela and Ratchet both stared at her and she shrugged. "What?"

"There's also a second possible use," Ratchet said, and Mikaela immediately picked up on the foreboding tone in his voice.

"What's that?" she asked apprehensively.

"I haven't seen it done in centuries," Ratchet said, beginning to pace again. "It's considered blasphemy to the highest degree, and is dangerous as the Pit to begin with. Even some of the most experienced scientists were never able to pull it off without serious consequences."

"And what is '_it_'?" Charli prompted.

Ratchet sighed, suddenly looking tired. "Through a long, complex process… certain scientists on Cybertron determined that given the right conditions, and specific chemical additives, energon crystals can be converted to what is called rarefied energon."

"What's that do?" Mikaela asked, exchanging a glance with an equally perplexed looking Charli.

"Rarefied energon," Ratchet hissed, "Was supposed to be obtained only with the express permission and will of Nexus Prime, who Primus had tasked with the guardianship of the material. It is the rarest substance known to Cybertonians – Autobot and Decepticon alike."

Mikaela frowned. "Why is it so… uh-"

"Sacred?" Charli prompted. Mikaela nodded.

"Yeah. Why is it so sacred? What's its purpose?"

"Its purpose," Ratchet said, running a hand over his face in that typical gesture that said he was stressed to his limit. "Its purpose is to create life. It is what makes our race - our very _sparks_. Without it, we would not _exist_."

"So it's like the Allspark?" Mikaela asked, flabbergasted.

"Similar, but it's more complex than that. Consider your own deity and the belief that he creates human beings," Ratchet explained. "You believe he creates them out of nothing."

"Er…I guess?"

"Well, traditional Cybertronian belief is that Primus, our deity, creates a Cybertronian's spark, our very souls, from a _material_ called _rarefied energon_."

"Right," Mikaela said slowly. "So… let's just assume for a minute that they really _are_ mining energon crystals from the creek. And if they _are _mining crystals that they _are _trying to convert them to this… rarefied energon. If they actually succeed, what will they _use_ it for?"

"That," Ratchet said, shaking his head. "Is anyone's guess. If I were to theorize, I would guess it would be used to serve one of two purposes; bringing back Megatron, or creating an army from… _scratch_, as you humans call it. Possibly both."

"It has that kind of capability?" Charli asked.

"Without a doubt," Ratchet responded grimly.

"Wait, wait," Charli said suddenly, shaking her head. "How much of this rarefied energon stuff would they actually need to create a whole other _army_? Y'all are huge – just throwin' that out there- so that'd be a lot of material, if I'm right…"

"You are correct," Ratchet said. "It would take a substantial amount of rarefied energon to create an entire Decepticon army. But consider what we discussed a few moments ago; both factions are direly short on soldiers. Just a few more on either side would make a massive difference. Even ten more Decepticons could spell doom for the Autobots and the end of the war."

Mikaela blinked. "Well, shit."

"Indeed."

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><p><strong><span>Energon crystals<span>: **A more powerful form of energon when compared to cubes. However, they are extremely unstable, emitting radiation which can be fatal to Transformers with prolonged exposure. It also risks detonation with temperature increases.

**Rarefied Energon**: While normal Energon provides the fuel that keeps the Transformers alive, rarefied energon is something more. In this form, it is the base material of all Transformer life. Rarefied energon is the base of the Transformers' physical forms AND the stuff of which sparks are made. It is also apparently of limited supply throughout the multiverse. If it all were to be used up, no more Transformer life would come into being. Given this, its protection is of vast importance to Primus, and he has tasked one of his thirteen original Transformers (Nexus Prime) with its protection.

Please note that a lot of the bits about crystals and rarefied energon and whatnot are based on the existing "facts" about energon, but some other bits are completely of my own invention.


	7. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Holy smokes, ladies and gentlemen, you have my sincerest apologies for making you wait so long for another chapter. I hope some of you are still reading this scrap of a fanfiction! I would be lying if I said that my delay was due to anything other than a sudden disinterest in writing. However! The fact that I already had a lot of this chapter written saved the day, and I'm back in the saddle for now, at least.

You might be pleased to know that while I was taking a break from writing, I was still doing some things pertaining to it! Haha. I tried my hand at some fanfiction art, and this is what I came up with;

(remove the spaces around "com" and "deviantart")

**Charli**: wingeater. deviantart. com /art/Charli-264704763?q=gallery%3Awingeater%2F27619614&qo=4

**Mikaela**: wingeater. deviantart. com /art/Mikaela-264703852?q=gallery%3Awingeater%2F27619614&qo=5

**Ratchet, Charli, Mikaela**: wingeater. deviantart. com /gallery/?catpath=/#/d4b5krs

There's more than that, but those are probably the main three. I also have more I have yet to post, so if you're interested in following along, my account (as I'm sure you noticed) on deviantART is WingEater.

**Here we go.**

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><p>After their guide had gone home for the night and she had bid Ratchet good dreams, Mikaela found that, for once, it was difficult for her to fall asleep. Her mind raced and reeled with all the possibilities surrounding the creek and filter, the horror of bringing Megatron back to life. She vaguely wondered what Sam was doing. He'd be getting back from vacation in a couple of days, probably wondering where she was. Her last thoughts before she finally fell into a restless sleep were of coming home to California.<p>

Somehow she didn't think they'd be meeting their original deadline.

When she woke the next morning, she found that she was sore from the previous day and groaned as she crawled out of her bunk to stand on the floor. She took a few minutes to stretch, relieved when it rid her muscles of at least some of the stiff ache that had settled there overnight, and walked into the main part of the hangar to find Ratchet.

She found him standing on the far side of the main room, going through things that were on the shelves and mumbling to himself.

"Good morning, Mikaela," he said as she approached, knowing she was there without even having to turn around.

"Morning, Ratchet," Mikaela smiled, crossing her arms and watching him fiddle with a large piece of metal that looked like a twisted part to an old train engine.

"How did you sleep?"

"Yeah, not bad," she said. "You?"

"I managed an adequate amount of recharge," he said distractedly, putting the part back on the shelf from where he had picked it up.

"So, Ratchet?"

"Mmh?"

"What do we do now?" Mikaela asked, feeling some of the nervousness bubble to the surface. "I mean, what if that's really what they're doing here? How do we stop them?"

Ratchet's features softened as he knelt before the mechanic. "There are several possibilities, Mikaela. As for what they're doing here – there is almost no doubt in my mind that what we are theorizing is correct, especially upon review of the photos that you and Charlotte have shown me. But we cannot be certain until I can get down there and get a good look at the machine myself. I need to take some samples from that area of the creek, as well."

"How are you going to do that if you can't get passed the soft ground? I can do it for you," Mikaela offered.

Ratchet shook his head. "No, it's too much of a risk, especially for an organic, such as yourself. If need be and it comes to it, I can use my holomatter form to collect what I need. But not today."

"Why not?"

"Because the Constructicons, as per my radar, returned sometime early this morning," he said, sighing hot air through his vents. "We must look to avoid a fight if at all possible and be patient until they move away once more."

"Won't _they _come looking for a fight?"

"It is unlikely that they are even aware of our presence here. I have masked my signal so that it can't be picked up by any radar – human, Decepticon and Autobot alike."

"Oh. Why don't they do that, then?"

"They are likely not concerned about being discovered by us."

"Cocky bastards."

"Indeed," Ratchet chuckled.

"So what _are_ we doing today?"

"I have been doing some research on Fountain Creek and similar waterways in the state, and I've traced the creek to its origin in the lower Rocky Mountains, in between a small town called Canyon City and the city of Colorado Springs. It starts there with snowmelt and runs down the western slope, through Colorado Springs, where it is apparently polluted, and then south, to this city."

"Yeah?"

"I need to take a look at the headwaters," Ratchet said. "If there are, in fact, energon crystal deposits in that waterway, it is likely that the majority of the deposits would be there. If that is the case, it is also likely that there is another mechanism at the start of the flow, as well as the one down here, at the end."

"So we need to go up and look?"

"Yes," Ratchet nodded. "I have contacted Optimus – he and Ironhide have finished their missions with little success and they are being airlifted, as we speak, to Fort Carson military base, about forty minutes north of Pueblo. We will meet them this afternoon and they will accompany us to the headwaters of Fountain Creek."

"Oh, already?"

"Yes," Ratchet sighed. "I assured them that we did not need assistance as of yet, but apparently the base is… quiet."

"So, what you're saying is… they're bored?" Mikaela smirked.

"It appears so."

"Why am I not surprised?" Mikaela snorted. "Oh, well. I guess backup is a good thing."

Charli chose that moment to stroll in, as the clicks of the high security locks on the smaller door made her presence known. Mikaela had to look twice; the Charli that strode in today looked immensely different from the Charli they'd met yesterday and it took the mechanic a few moments to pinpoint that it was because their guide wasn't wearing the bandana over her hair like she had been the day before. Charli's hair was longer than Mikaela had expected – about to the small of the guide's back, the same straw blond that she had seen, and _messy_ as heck.

"Mornin' Sunshine," Charli said to Mikaela, grinning humorously at the blank look plastered across her face. "Not completely awake yet?"

Mikaela shook herself. "No, not really. Take a long time to wake up in the morning."

"One of those, huh?" Charli asked, dropping what she was carrying in her arms on the table. "How'd you sleep?"

"Not bad," Mikaela lied, stretching again. "Just had a lot on my mind."

"I hear that."

"Whatcha got?" Mikaela asked, indicating the brown bags that Charli had put on the table.

"Breakfast and _coffee_," Charli grinned. "I know your fridge is stocked, but I figured you probably wouldn't feel like making breakfast on your first day here."

"You're a saint," Mikaela said as the guide opened the bags and tossed her a breakfast burrito wrapped in tin foil. The mechanic took it upon herself to open the second bag, which held a drink carrier and two things of coffee. She went to hand one to Charli, but the guide waved her off.

"Nah, no thank you," she said, unwrapping her breakfast burrito. "I don't drink coffee. Caffeine and I… haha, we don't really get along so well."

"Oh," Mikaela said, glancing at the cups in her hands. "How come there's two, then?"

Charli blinked at her. "Thought you might need two."

"…Charli, I think I love you."

The guide snorted, tilting a suggestive eyebrow at the brunette. "Ghee, Mikaela. Didn't you were that type!"

"What type?" Ratchet asked off-handedly as he approached them, carefully eyeing what Charli had brought in the brown paper bag. "Is that healthy?"

"Nothing, nothing," Mikaela waved him off with a laugh. "And no, it's not. Duh."

Ratchet tilted a humorless optic ridge and turned his head to stare at Charli, who held her hands up in self defense, her mouth full of burrito as she said "Hey, it could be worse. Trust me."

"Indeed," Ratchet sniffed, still eyeing the bundles of wrapped egg, cheese, potato and chili as if they might disintegrate by his sheer willpower. He turned and walked back to the shelves with a grunt when nothing of the sort occurred.

As they ate, Mikaela updated the blonde on their plans for the day, and Ratchet's need to see the headwaters of the creek. Charli seemed giddy upon learning their destination.

"The area that you're talking about is called Phantom Canyon. I love that place," she sighed. "It's so nice up there."

"Oh?" Ratchet said, lifting his optics from the device he was working on, "You are familiar with the area?"

"Phantom Canyon? Of course," Charli snorted. "That's what I'm here for, isn't it? To _be_ familiar?"

"I suppose," Ratchet said nonchalantly, turning back to his work.

Mikaela shrugged. "So when are we leaving?"

"We should leave now, if we are going to meet them on time," Ratchet supplied, subspacing his project with a flick of his wrist.

"Cool," Charli said. "I've got somewhere I'd like to stop somewhere, first."

As it turned out, the 'somewhere' that Charli had insisted on stopping was a small market stand, just on the outskirts of town. Mikaela eyed her questioningly as they pulled up.

"Fruit stand, local farmers," Charli explained as she hopped out of the cab, waving to a dark haired man behind the first row of produce. She turned back to Mikaela, "Are you coming?"

"Hola, Charlotte!" the man said, his voice thickly accented, beaming at the women as they approached. "Que tal?"

"Hola, Joe," Charli said, smiling at him and leaning over the table to shake his hand. "Nada, nada. Estoy trabajando. Yanno? Puedo tener una bolsa de manzanas… y dos bolsas de melocotones, por favor?"

Mikaela jerked in surprise and looked at Charli with wide eyes. The guide caught her stare and laughed. "What?"

"You speak Spanish."

"Oh," Charli smiled. "It's kind of a natural thing around here. The culture in Pueblo is predominantly Mexican, so you kinda grow up with it, yanno?"

"What did you say?" Mikaela asked curiously.

"I asked for a bag of apples and a couple things of peaches for the drive," Charli informed her as Joe returned with an armful of produce. Charli handed him a ten dollar bill and took the bags from his arms. "They make good, disposable snacks for the trip up there. No utensils, don't have to worry about throwing anything out. They are_ so_ good from this stand. We've been buying from Musso farms since I was a kid."

"Cool," Mikaela grinned.

Joe smiled at her, and then looked back to Charli. "Quien es tu amiga hermosa?"

Charli laughed and smacked him on the arm. "Ella es mi prima. Ella tiene un novio, no siquiera pensar en ello!"

Mikaela, confused, looked back and forth between the two of them. Joe winked at her and she narrowed her eyes at him. Charli said her goodbyes and they walked back to Ratchet's waiting alt. mode.

"What did he say?" Mikaela asked as soon as they were in Ratchet's cab.

Charli laughed. "He asked me who my pretty friend was. I told him you were my cousin and that you were already taken."

Mikaela put a hand to her forehead in embarrassment and Ratchet chuckled through the speakers as they pulled back onto the road. "Seems I am not the only one attracting members of the opposite gender on this trip."

Charli's eyebrows shot up on her forehead and she looked curiously at Mikaela. "What was that?"

Mikaela snorted. "Ratchet got hit on at the inn we stayed at on the way here. The woman behind the desk apparently thought he was sexy."

"How's that work?" Charli asked, perplexed. "No offense, Ratchet, but… well, yanno. I didn't think women really went for the 6-ton, building-high metal robot type… At least not in this country."

"He was using his holo."

"His what?"

"His holomatter form," Mikaela laughed. "He's got a generator that creates a hardlight form – a human version of himself."

"_Cool_," Charli said, wide-eyed. "I want to see that!"

"Maybe some other time," Ratchet chuckled. "When I form a holo, I transfer my spark, my consciousness - my literal_ being_ – into the vessel. It takes quite a bit of energy to create and dissipate. For now, I'll need to save that energy."

"I'll hold you to that," Charli promised, fishing a couple peaches out of the bag and handing one to Mikaela. "Where are we supposed to meet them?"

"They are coming to meet us at your office," Ratchet said. "They are en route now, and should be there in approximately twenty minutes."

Mikaela bit into the peach as they pulled out of the small lot and back onto the road, her eyes widening as unexpected excess juice made a mess of the front of her shirt. Charli laughed as the mechanic hurriedly wiped it away from her shirt and chin.

"If you drip that on my interior, youngling, you will be spending the rest of the day cleaning it," Ratchet said evenly. Charli snickered all the way to their destination.

"They are here already," Ratchet said in slight annoyance as they pulled into the parking lot of Charli's office. "They arrived early."

Charli narrowed her eyes at the only unfamiliar vehicles in the parking lot; a huge, gleaming Peterbilt, and an intimidating looking black truck. "Is that them, then?"

Mikaela gave her a sardonic grin as they slid out of their seats and Ratchet transformed. "How could you tell?"

"Y'all are remarkably clean," Charli told Ratchet matter-of-factly and somewhat distractedly as she stepped closer to get a better look at the Peterbilt that was Optimus. "From what I had heard, I'd expected you to be somewhat… unkempt. I'm surprised. Not a spot to be found."

"Not always so, I'm afraid. _Some_ of us," Ratchet scoffed, staring pointedly at the black truck, "Take issue with bathing."

"Wow," Charli said, a grin creeping into her features as she approached the black Topkick that was Ironhide. "That is one gorgeous truck."

Mikaela snorted. "I dare you to tell him that to his face."

"You may transform, Optimus, Ironhide," Ratchet said, failing to hide his amusement. "She already knows who or rather, what you are."

Charli took an interested step forward as two transformation sequences began simultaneously in front of her. Flipping, whirring, grinding and sliding ended in two metal giants towering over her, the nearest of which looked down on her with polite interest in his bright blue optics.

The guide whistled, low and appreciative.

"Oh my gawd, you are even bigger than Ratchet," she frowned, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand as she bent backward to stare at the towering form of Optimus Prime. Optimus, ever good natured, just chuckled at her, shifting to block the sun from her vision.

"And you," Charli said, looking over to Ironhide, who narrowed his optics at her immediately, "You must be the muscle of the outfit. I love your truck mode."

Ironhide snorted, a cocky smirk dawning on his hard features. "Interesting little squishy you found there, Ratchet."

Ratchet clicked at him reprovingly. "This is our liaison, you overclocked scrapheap. Try to show some respect."

Ironhide's smirk merely grew wider as he turned to regard the blond-haired guide. "Sorry. _How do you do, squishy_?"

Charli, in a bold move, put both hands on her hips and leaned forward toward the hulking mass of a Weapons Specialist. "The name is Charli. And yes, do show some respect. I suspect that Ratchet here could put you in your place for me with merely a few choice words."

Mikaela giggled, quickly covering it up with a cough, and pretended to look uninterested.

Ironhide blinked at her, somewhat owlishly before barking a surprised laugh. He turned to Ratchet with an owlish blink of his optics. "Got you figured out already."

Charli scowled up at him indignantly, but threw a sly wink at Mikaela, who shook her head good-naturedly in return.

"Don't suppose you'd transform back into that Topkick for me again, would ya?" Charli asked, seemingly innocent, batting eyelashes charmingly in Ironhide's direction. Ironhide merely let loose a large, long suffering sigh, as if he had been asked to do that very thing at least ten times since that morning already. Nevertheless, he acquiesced, and transformed swiftly back into his alt. mode as the blond-haired guide approached him slowly, like a cat on the prowl. Mikaela followed, laughing silently as Charli bent low to inspect Ironhide's undercarriage.

"Ratchet," Optimus said quietly, as they watched the two humans poking and prodding around Ironhide's alt. mode, making the Topkick twitch here and there. "Is it entirely necessary that we endanger them both by bringing them along?"

Ratchet 'hmm'-ed thoughtfully. "Well, Optimus… Mikaela would not take no for an answer – as I'm sure you are well aware – and she is my assistant. She knows enough about Cybertronian anatomy to be of great help if any casualties should arise. Aside from that, she has a keen eye and a good sense of instinct."

Optimus nodded silently.

"As for Charlotte," Ratchet continued, "I had my reservations when I first saw her as well. She is very young, and young age is often coupled with inexperience. However, the human government assigned her to us for a reason – we must trust in her capabilities and her government's decision. She has been most useful in conveying and spotting important elements of the area; projects, back roads, government, unusual activity. I insist that she accompany us."

Optimus nodded again, touching Ratchet's shoulder briefly in a sign of intimate friendship. "I trust your judgment, old friend. I can only hope that we do not run into trouble on this trip."

Nearly an hour later saw them loaded up into a small caravan and heading out of town with Ratchet in the lead, Optimus after, and Ironhide bringing up the rear. Mikaela, given the first chance to see the outside landscape of the state in broad daylight, remained glued to Ratchet's window for most of the ride, snapping pictures here and there as she saw fit. Charli lazed in the passenger seat, playing roulette with Ratchet's temper by continuously resting her boots on his dashboard, despite the CMO's continued protests and threats.

Eventually, they reached the end of the paved road and came to the beginning of the gravel, which signaled the start of the climb, as Charli put it. Due to their lower speed through the tight turns and the gravelly road, Ratchet allowed his passengers to roll the windows in his cab down so that they might enjoy the "beneficially clean air," at his insistence. Mikaela found herself staring, somewhat apprehensively out of Charli's window at the sheer drop to the right of the road. She shook her head to herself, reclining back in her own seat on Ratchet's driver side, opting instead to stare at the sheer rock face and the thick veins of vegetation that wound itself up and down the face of the cliff on her own side. The ride was easy; it was a particularly nice and clear day and Mikaela, despite her slight apprehension about their mission, found herself dozing off to the gentle rocking motions of the cab with her head resting against Ratchet's door.

Everything was quiet, but for the soft rumble of engines and the sound of gravel crunching under three sets of tires, until shortly after the halfway mark of their ascent, when static crackled through Ratchet's dash and a gruff, irritated baritone filled the cab.

"Approaching Cybertronian signals," Ironhide growled over the radio. "Three of them. Coming up over the hill, west bound!"

"Autobot or Decepticon?" Optimus' smooth voice responded.

"Can't tell. They're masking the better part of their transmitters… If I had to guess, I'd say Decepticons. Autobots don't _sneak_."

Mikaela squinted through the windshield up the winding canyon road as three black vehicles careened over the canyon hill a mile in front of them, heading their direction at top speed.

"Slag," Ironhide growled through the connection. "Knew it."

"The Dreads," Ratchet spat, accelerating alarmingly around a hairpin turn. "Crankcase, Crowbar and Hatchet."

"Is that bad?" Charli asked.

"That's bad," Ratchet confirmed.

Mikaela and Charli barely had time to register the change in the road as an EM pulse hit them suddenly, sending Ratchet screeching and sliding sideways, Optimus and Ironhide fishtailing behind him. The CMO slammed on the brakes and came to a sharp halt, throwing the doors to his cab open.

"Get out," he said sharply. "Find cover. Now!"

Slightly confused, Charli was jerked forward sharply as Mikaela grabbed her wrist and made for the guardrail. Quick to pick things up, the guide vaulted over the short, sheet-metal structure and turned to Mikaela expectantly when the mechanic did not immediately follow. Mikaela hesitated, leaning forward over the rail to see that there was only three more feet of gravelly road on the other side before their flat area descended into a sharp drop down to the canyon below. She looked at Charli with wide eyes when the guide held out her hand.

"It's okay, Mikaela," Charli said quickly. "You're not going to fall. It's stable here, trust me. Come on, it's okay."

The quick sounds of Ratchet, Ironhide and Optimus transforming into their bipedal modes behind her jolted Mikaela into gear, and she clambered over the guardrail gracelessly to join Charli in crouching on the other side. The two exchanged anxious glances as the roar of the approaching vehicles got closer.

Suddenly, in a rash of screeching metal and sliding gravel, the 'Cons were upon them; transforming acrobatically in midair, without even slowing their approach. Autobot met Decepticon in a cacophony of howling metal and battle cries. Mikaela somehow had the presence of mind to reach out and steady Charli beside her, who had unconsciously taken an alarmed step backward toward losing her balance. Together, they pressed themselves as snugly as they could against the heated metal of the railing, Mikaela ducking low so that she might catch glimpses of the battling titans as she kicked into medic-mode, awaiting the first severe injury and preparing to assist, should she be needed.

Mikaela found herself grateful that the Decepticons had seemed to favor hand-to-hand combat in this instance – not only because she knew that Ratchet was an expert at such fighting (especially with that terrifying saw of his), but also because if they had switched to artillery, she knew that there was a good chance that she and Charli would either be hit by stray bullets, or blown down the cliff face altogether.

She winced and pressed herself harder against the metal as Ratchet and his opponent came tumbling dangerously close to the guardrail. Ever the quick thinker, Ratchet had only to glance back toward the railing and assess how close they were to the humans before hitting the 'Con in a headlong tackle. Despite successfully knocking the 'Con away from the railing, Ratchet was unable to gain the upper hand when the Dread yanked him down to the gravel as he lost balance. They landed in a heap of thrashing limbs and Ratchet's saw glinted dangerously in the sun before he brought it down hard into the 'Con's shoulder, eliciting an earsplitting Cybertronian cry from the black Suburban.

Mikaela, seeing all of this from their hiding place on the other side of the railing, had tried to shout a warning as a second Decepticon came to the aid of his companion, and approached a distracted Ratchet from the back. Any cry that had managed to make it out of her throat was lost in the din of the battle before it reached the CMO, and the Dread snuck up unnoticed and dug his clawed fingers into Ratchet's shoulders. Mikaela winced as the medic loosed a pained howl when the 'Con lifted him up off of his feet and threw him across the road. Ratchet grunted as his back connected with the rock wall in a shower of rocks and dirt and he slumped to the ground in a whoosh of dust. Mikaela shouted his name, standing suddenly and clambering over the guardrail to run across the road, dodging Autobot and Decepticon feet alike to get to the spot where her mentor had fallen.

"Mikaela, no!" Charli shouted hoarsely, coughing from all the dust that had been stirred up as she vaulted over the guard rail to chase after the mechanic. She stopped short, skidding to a halt on the asphalt and taking several surprised steps backward, narrowly avoiding running right into a huge pair of black feet that had suddenly appeared in front her.

Charli looked up and shuddered upon seeing the face of the 'Con looming over her, keeping her lips clamped shut on the scream that was suddenly itching to escape her lungs. The hulking, animalistic form of Hatchet had just begun to reach for her when he was tackled from the side by a massive black blur. With a screech of metal and a flurry of kicks and punches, Ironhide and the 'Con went toppling to the gravel.

From the corner of her eye, Charli saw Ratchet haul himself to his feet beside a relieved looking Mikaela and rush forward toward the scuffle.

"Get them out of here," Ironhide roared to Ratchet as he took another well-aimed punch to his chassis. "Get them to safety! _Go_!"

With a frustrated growl, Ratchet transformed rapidly and was moving the moment that both humans were inside of his cab. His tires spun on the gravel, sending up thick clouds of dust into the air behind him as he sped off up the canyon road. Mikaela and Charli scrambled to buckle their seatbelts, tossing brief, alarmed looks at each other as they made their way further between the mountains.

"What are we going to do?" Charli finally asked, wiping a hand across her forehead nervously.

"I'm getting you to safety," Ratchet said, sounding tense. "That is priority above all else."

"Shouldn't we help?" Mikaela said frantically, holding onto the dashboard as the Hummer swerved around another tight turn.

"No."

"But, Ratchet-"

"Don't argue with me, Mikaela," he replied tightly. "Now is not the time."

Mikaela sat back in the seat, frustrated. She turned her head to look at Charli, but her gaze focused instead on the window of the driver's side. She didn't even have the time to give voice to the startled warning rising in her throat before a massive black SUV roared off of a dirt cross-road and collided with Ratchet's left side. Things seemed to slow down on the impact, and Mikaela was vaguely aware of Charli's sharp cry to her left and Ratchet's grunt of pain as he was hit and sent careening off the road in a cacophony of screaming metal, shattering glass and screeching tires. There was a rough jolt as they crashed through the guard rail, and then they were rolling, flipping over and over again down the side of the slope, the loose articles in the cab floating around them like they were trapped in antigravity. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Mikaela knew the screams she was hearing were her own. Her fingers dug deep into the seat as Ratchet's alt. mode became airborne suddenly, ramped off of a steep overhang in a curved arch, making an almost graceful half turn in the air before smashing back to the earth below. The force of the landing cracked Mikaela's head against the window sharply and she knew no more.


	8. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** *eye twitch* Sorry, y'all. I realize it's been more than four months since my last update. My vibes with this story have been seriously out of whack lately. After this chapter, I have nothing else waiting in the wings as of yet. But rest assured, it is not in my plans to discontinue the story. Should it get to that point, I'd sooner adopt it out than just leave you all hanging. Unfortunately, this chapter has not been proof-read very thoroughly, so feel free to point out any glaring errors should you find them. Anyway, hopefully this satisfies for now! As always, feedback is a welcome encouragement. Onward!

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><p>When Mikaela came to, she immediately knew something was wrong without having to remember the events that had led up to her loss of consciousness. Her first indication was the tightness around her chest and waist, an intense pressure creating a line of dull pain across her skin and ribs. The second indicator was the groggy, heavy feeling in her head that could only come from the prolonged rush of blood to her brain. She cracked her eyes open with a pained groan, hardly able to breathe through the pressure across her chest and found that she was hanging upside down, her body in a V-shaped arch, suspended by her seatbelt in Ratchet's wrecked cab.<p>

"Shit," she cursed, coughing harshly as her lungs protested. She looked over at Charli to see that the guide was in a similar predicament, still unconscious. Mikaela reached over to her side slowly, wincing as her muscles screamed in protest at the movement, and fumbled for the seatbelt catch. After finally being able to push the button she dropped heavily onto the severely dented roof of Ratchet's cab, wincing as shattered glass from the windshield cut into the palms of her hands and her knees.

"Ratch," she rasped, her mind fuzzy and her head throbbing from her friend-making with the window. "Ratchet?"

When she didn't receive a response, she crawled slowly over to Charli's still form, trying unsuccessfully to avoid the glass that covered the whole ceiling. Mikaela shook her head at the thought… She was crawling on the ceiling. Why did that seem suddenly hilarious?

'_Get a grip, Mikaela,'_ she chided herself. '_Gheezus, what a mess.'_

She reached a hand out to touch one of Charli's dangling arms, nervous that she might feel cold to the touch, but was relieved when she found the skin warm and obviously alive, though slightly scratched and bloodied from the glass that had undoubtedly been floating around the cabin during the fall. She sighed, dragging herself closer and using one arm to press against the guide's chest as a support while she undid the seatbelt with the other, allowing the blonde to slide on her back slowly until she was laying right-side-up.

"Hey," Mikaela said, patting her cheek roughly. "Charli. Hey!"

The guide jerked awake with a gasp of surprise and when she looked at Mikaela, her eyes were unfocussed and disoriented. Mikaela saw, with a wince, that the left side of Charli's face was beginning to turn purple with bruising and there was a sizeable gashed knot over her left eyebrow. The blonde blinked a few times, bringing a hand up to prod gingerly at her face and wincing when it came in contact with the bump on her forehead. She looked at Mikaela, clearly confused.

"We got hit," Mikaela said, "Ratchet's unconscious or something, he's not responding… I think we're at the bottom of the canyon."

Charli winced and nodded in understanding, sitting up slowly with a grunt and taking in her surroundings with too-bright eyes. "Let's get out and have a look," she said, her words slurring slightly. Mikaela nodded and crawled out of the cab behind her. Charli stumbled immediately upon standing and decided it was clearly a better idea to sit as she lowered herself to the grass a few feet from where they landed and stuck her head rather forcefully between her knees.

"Are you okay?" Mikaela asked, concerned.

Charli waved her off with a slightly bloodied hand. "Fine, fine. Just give me a minute."

Mikaela sighed, turning immediately to assess the damage that Ratchet had sustained and had to stifle a pained gasp as she took in his vehicle mode. His windshield was all but shattered and most of the glass had clearly been lost on the way down. The entirety of his exterior was peppered with dents ranging in size from a human fist to craters the size of a standard tire. Bits of vegetation and weeds stuck out from almost every perceivable gap in the Hummer's form and Mikaela was dismayed to see the bright colored liquid that was Cybertronian energon bleeding slowly from the gaps in the medic's armor.

"Fuck, Ratch," Mikaela said quietly, placing a gentle hand on the ruined metal of the Hummer's door.

Mikaela winced. There was no way she could access all of Ratchet's internals without having him in his bipedal form… especially since he was upside down. She wouldn't even be able to access what little was under his hood without having him turned over.

She bit her lip, weighing her options. Looking up the steep incline of the canyon, she decided that there was no way she would be able to climb all the way back up to the road to go for help, especially if it meant leaving Ratchet and Charli, neither of whom were in any condition to go anywhere, alone. On top of that, there was the matter of the vehicle that hit them. Mikaela was almost certain it had been one of the Dreads, even though she hadn't been able to get a good look at it, and the probability was enough to send chills up her spine. What if it came down after them to finish the job? She looked up the incline again, wincing as she followed their crashing path down, clearly cut through trees and shrubbery. She knew they couldn't stay here, but was at a loss as to what a usable alternative might be.

Optimus and Ironhide were still up there somewhere, she remembered with a sudden jolt. They had stayed behind to take care of the other two Decepticons, while Ratchet had tried to get the humans to safety (Mikaela snorted slightly at this). She pulled her blessedly undamaged cell phone out of her back pocket and quickly punched in a pre-programmed code that would connect her directly with Optimus' comlink.

"Come on, come on, come on," she urged quietly. And then there was a sudden click, and a deep baritone voice filled the line.

"Mikaela."

"Oh, thank God. Optimus," Mikaela all but sobbed in relief. "Are you guys okay?"

"We are fine but for a few minor injuries, Mikaela. We are coming to meet your party now."

"We need help," Mikaela breathed urgently, running a stressed hand through her hair and wincing when she applied too much pressure to the damaged side of her skull.

"What happened?" Optimus demanded, a bit of alarm seeping into his steady voice.

"I d-don't know," Mikaela answered unsteadily. "We got T-Boned by a… by a big vehicle. I think it was one of those black Suburbans, but I didn't get a good look… We went over the guard rail and ended up at the bottom of the canyon."

"Is everyone alright?"

Mikaela shook her head for a moment before remembering that they couldn't see her. "No. Charli hit her head pretty hard, I think she's got at least a mild concussion," she supplied, glancing over at their guide, who sat on the grass with her head in her hands. "Ratchet's unconscious… or something. He's not responding to me at all. He looks pretty bad…"

"We are tracing your cell phone signal, Mikaela. We will be there shortly, just stay where you are," Optimus reassured her. A click on the line signaled the end of the call and Mikaela closed her phone and shoved it back in her pocket.

She walked over and crouched next to Charli, who looked up at her through parted fingers. "You doing okay?" she asked.

Charli nodded, blinking a few times. "I think I'm knocked a bit silly, but I'll live. Have had worse," she laughed, and Mikaela believed it. "How are you holding up? You look like you hit your head pretty good, too."

Mikaela lightly prodded the bump on the right side of her skull, just past the hairline and winced a little, nodding. "Yeah, I got knocked out there for a minute, but it's not too bad. Maybe a concussion. My face isn't turning black and blue, is it?" When Charli shook her head, Mikaela smiled ruefully. "Yours is."

"Yeah," Charli said, grinning. "Good thing I like purple, huh?"

"I guess," Mikaela mumbled under her breath as she stood back up, hands on her hips as she continued to survey where they had ended up. "Optimus and Ironhide are on their way."

"Dunno how we're gonna manage to get out of here," Charli sighed. "I'm not completely familiar with this particular area down here, pretty sure it's private property, and I'm not sure if there are any walls less steep than these further down the canyon. You and I might be able to climb out at some point, but how are we going to haul several tons of unconscious alien robot up a cliff?"

Mikaela sighed, walking over and sitting down with her back against Ratchet, wishing that they could at least roll him over onto his wheels to make him more comfortable. "Hopefully he won't be out for much longer."

The two sat in silence for a few moments before they heard a grating sound, followed by a series of clicking sounds. Mikaela's head snapped around to see that Optimus was sliding down the slope in his bipedal mode in a shower of small rocks and dirt.

The Autobot leader landed gracefully on his feet at the bottom, his optics immediately scanning and assessing the situation. After taking in Charli, who stared blearily up at him, and Ratchet's still overturned vehicle mode, he turned to Mikaela, who jerked her head toward the Hummer as if to say 'do something about him.'

She was rewarded with a fraction of a nod before Optimus knelt slowly beside the Hummer, resting a hand on the door.

"Ratchet, can you hear me?"

No response.

"Where's Ironhide?" Mikaela asked worriedly.

"I required him to stay up on the road to keep watch," Optimus said, directing his gaze down at her. "This was indeed a Decepticon's doing. No normal human vehicle could have hit with such force and still have been able to drive away."

Mikaela winced, imagining that the Weapons Specialist probably did not take kindly to the order to stay behind while Ratchet was down, injured, in the canyon. Ratchet stirred, then. Mikaela heard the hum of all of his systems powering back up. "Ratchet?" she asked, stepping forward to lay her hand on his side.

The CMO groaned low in response, and Optimus stood up to his full height.

"I'm going to roll you over, Ratchet. See if you are able to transform."

With a mighty, yet gentle push, Optimus had Ratchet right way up on his wheels again. There was silence for a moment before Mikaela heard the hiss-click-whirr signaling the CMO's transformation.

It was slow going, Ratchet's injuries to his armor plating clearly hindering him from transforming at his normal speed. As the last of the sequence was completed, his knee struts buckled with a pained gasp and he fell forward into the waiting arms of Optimus.

"Easy, old friend," Optimus said softly, attempting to lower the CMO to the ground. "You took quite a hit."

"I'm alright," Ratchet grunted. "My processors are just a bit addled."

"The hell you are," Mikaela growled suddenly from where she stood, hands on her hips, a dark scowl on her face as she regarded the medic's form. "Sit your _ass_ down and let me have a look, Ratchet. You're leaking _energon _everywhere."

Optimus tilted an optic ridge in amusement but wisely kept silent as the flustered CMO sat heavily, as he was told, glaring at Optimus in a fashion that clearly said '_Say anything, and your next visit to the medbay will be the Pit._'

The moment Ratchet had settled into a seated position, Mikaela was scrambling up the front of his frame to stand on his shoulder armor. She bent low, squinting at the gashes in the metal from where the 'Con had latched on during their fight.

"These don't look too bad," she said. "You'll probably need some welding work when we get back, because my welder is too small. But your self repair has sealed off your energon lines around the area, so no danger here."

Mikaela bent over and tapped his chest plates.

"Open," she instructed. Ratchet did so without argument, groaning a bit as his armor shifted to reveal the delicate wiring and plating over his spark. Mikaela lowered herself gently, routing through the complex network of wires and metal before saying "All clear here, Ratchet. Your self repair seems to have taken care of most of the major leaks over your spark casing, too."

From Ratchet's chassis, she lowered herself onto the solid metal of his thigh to look at a sparking gash over his left hip. She poked at it gently, careful to avoid the energon bleeding slowly from several severed lines, patting Ratchet's leg as he hissed slightly.

"This is going to take a little more work," she said, narrowing her eyes at the wound. "Got my gloves on you?"

Ratchet nodded, fishing a small box out of his subspace and handing it to her. Mikaela flipped the lid open, pulling the two flexible, arm-length metallic looking gloves from inside. She looked down to see Charli watching them questioningly.

"Energon is harmful if it comes into contact with human skin," Mikaela explained. "Ratchet and Wheeljack made these gloves for me several months ago so that I could get into Autobot internals without worrying about melting my hands. They're made of a Cybertronian alloy."

As she divulged this information, she routed around under Ratchet's armor, seeking out the leaking lines. Ratchet pulled a human sized welder and several small clamps from his subspace and handed them off to her as she worked, and she sealed and cauterized the ruptured lines with military precision within seconds.

"That'll have to do for now, Ratch," Mikaela said, placing the gloves back in their box and wiping her hands on her jeans as she hopped down. "How does it feel?"

"Much better," Ratchet sighed, hauling himself to stand. "Thank you, Mikaela."

"No worries, Ratch," Mikaela said cheerfully, stretching and pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail. "When we get back to the hangar we can-"

"Mikaela," Ratchet said suddenly, cutting the mechanic off and staring at her. "_Your face_."

Mikaela winced. She had hoped he wouldn't notice just yet. "It's nothing, Ratchet."

"That's not nothing, youngling," he insisted.

"It is. You should have a look at Charli's. Hers is even more colorful."

Charli glared at her in such a way that clearly said '_traitor_,' looking past the advancing CMO at Mikaela with pursed lips and dangerously narrowed eyes and the mechanic winced again, mouthing 'Sorry' at their guide as the Ratchet turned his attention on her instead.

When Charli finally refocused on Ratchet, she jumped to her feet and stumbled back in surprise, stifling a startled shout as she was confronted with the figure of an unfamiliar man.

"Wha-" she stuttered, teetering dangerously as her head spun from the sudden movement. The man grabbed her wrist with long, thin fingers in quick reflex to steady her, and she wrenched her arm from his grasp. "What the hell?"

"Calm yourself, Charlotte, this is my hard light form," a familiar, lightly accented voice said, and she squinted at the figure hard.

"Ratchet?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Well?" Ratchet said expectantly, when she didn't move. "Sit down before you _fall_ down and let me have a look."

"It's really not necessary, Ratchet. It's just-"

"Sit," Ratchet ordered in a tone that left no room for argument. "Now."

Charli sat.

"I can see where Mikaela gets it from," the blonde mumbled sourly.

"Turn your head for me," the CMO said distractedly, running surprisingly gentle fingers over the bruise forming on the side of Charli's face. Charli complied. "Your cheekbone is intact. Any pain in your neck?"

"Nothing significant yet."

"Follow my forefinger, please," Ratchet said, eyebrows drawing inward in focus as he moved his finger back and forth. Charli blinked at him slowly, and followed his instructions for a moment before closing her eyes.

"Makes me dizzy."

Ratchet pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and clicked it on before putting a hand to the guide's forehead to tilt it back, "Open your eyes, please."

Charli did as she was told, but was none too happy about finding the bright light boring into her skull.

"I need you to tell me exactly how you feel, this particular moment," Ratchet said, shining the small light into one eye, then the other.

Charli winced. "Like I'm going to projectile vomit on you any time now if you keep shining that light in my eyes."

The guide was sure she heard Mikaela snort in quiet laughter at that particular threat, but couldn't bring herself to turn her head and look.

"Your pupils are dilated," Ratchet frowned at her, but clicked the light off. "What else?"

"Uhh… One hell of a headache. Some dizziness, lightheadedness, disorientation, sore ribs. Concussion, most likely – moderate, not severe. Bruised ribs and shoulder, nothing broken though. Nothing that a couple days of ibuprofen and some peppermint won't fix."

Charli chuckled when Ratchet stared at her with a raised eyebrow. "Sorry. Lots of first aid classes, certification whatnot. This is the part where you tell me to refrain from self-diagnosis, right?"

"As your diagnosis is likely correct, it would be foolish of me to do so, just to repeat it back to you in a few moments," Ratchet said, rubbing his forehead with two fingers. "However, I would like to keep an eye on you for a couple days, just in case."

Charli didn't look happy with the last bit, but she shrugged. "Am I bleeding?" She asked, frowning.

"You are," Ratchet sighed. "Above your left eyebrow ridge."

"It itches."

"I will take care of that for you in a moment," Ratchet said, "Let me see to Mikaela first."

Mikaela flinched, backing away toward the huge feet of Optimus as Ratchet turned from Charli to her with an appraising look. The mechanic scrambled halfway up one of the Autobot leader's feet with a scowl as Charli stuck her tongue out at her. Optimus shifted somewhat uncomfortably, looking from Ratchet's advancing holoform to the human girl attempting to scuttle away from it. Ratchet's holo came to a stop at the base of the foot Mikaela was currently perched on and he crossed his arms firmly, his eyebrows lifting closer to his hairline.

"Mikaela," he said evenly, tapping his foot slowly.

"Yes?" she responded meekly.

Sweetly; "Come down here."

Mikaela's eyes widened at the unfamiliar, sugary tone. "Uh, no thanks. I'll just... uh-"

"Now!" Ratchet said sharply, making Mikaela jump and go rigid. She slid, stiffly and slowly over the red and blue plating over to her mentor, shuffling her feet when she stood before him and looking more like a young child than a young woman.

"Look at me, please," Ratchet said, reverting to a gentle tone and tilting Mikaela's head so that he could shine the same little light into her eyes.

Mikaela squinted and squirmed a bit. "Ow, Ratch."

"I know, I apologize," Ratchet mumbled, rubbing a slender thumb in circles over the mechanic's undamaged temple. "I need to get a look at your pupils, Mikaela. Try to keep your eyes open for just a moment."

Mikaela obeyed, slightly soothed by Ratchet's hands. Ratchet, seeming satisfied, clicked the light off and put it back into his pocket. He tilted Mikaela's head to the side with gentle pressure and smoothed back her hair to get a better look at the knot on the side of her head.

"Same goes for you, Mikaela," Ratchet said in a strict tone. "Observation. You both need to take it slow for a couple of days."

Mikaela sighed in defeat. "Fine."

Ratchet nodded once, in a final kind of way, before his holoform flickered and dissipated. His bipedal form stretched slightly, and everyone winced at the sound of metal grinding on metal.

'How do they look?' Optimus' voice suddenly filled the private comlink he shared with Ratchet.

Ratchet sighed. 'They're both remarkably unharmed for what could have been. Banged up and both will be sore for a while, but nothing serious.'

'I'm glad,' Optimus said, some of the worry leaving his voice. 'And you? That was quite a tumble.'

'I'll be alright as well. Nothing I can't take care of when I have access to the proper tools back at the hangar,' Ratchet responded, rolling his shoulder experimentally and looking up the steep incline toward the road. 'Now we just need to get out of this blasted rut.'


End file.
